#definition of barking up the wrong tree | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hysteria-things · 3 months

Note

please write a story where either chris or matt is veryyyy dominant and can throw the reader around (might sound weird) but like a size difference 🙏

CAMPSITE

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you feel sex deprived when you go camping with your boyfriend and his brothers for a few days, and you don’t think you can wait any longer.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, heavy petting, semi-public (?), marking, p in v, degradation, mentions blood, ROUGH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,038

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: combined these two because they both fit the idea when i was brainstorming! hope you guys like it :)

“is everybody in?” matt asks as he turns the keys into the golf kart ignition. the boys have a campsite on a campground, and you guys have been going camping every few weeks. it’s summertime, so it’s the perfect weather to do things.

the campground is nice. it’s big with other people’s trailers there, dogs and little kids run around from morning to curfew.

doing activities like this is nice to get away from life for a bit, especially social media. having to text people back can be so exhausting.

a seatbelt clicks behind you. “yup. all ready.” chris says.

the sun is setting, and you hear the weekend band playing in the distance. matt’s driving of course, and you’re in the passenger seat. nick and chris are in the back facing outward.

the music starts to get closer as matt drives down the small hill that leads to the main part of the grounds. there’s a dog park, a horseshoe game setup, a lounge, and a playground/basketball court. the stage is just outside of the lounge and the bathrooms are on the other side.

there’s a fire going in the middle of where the picnic tables are. people from around the campgrounds are either sitting or standing by their golf karts, some dogs barking as well.

kids play on the playground and matt finds a spot to park. rainbow beams flood the air from the stage, the band singing whatever country song they’re playing.

fairy lights hang on the trees above. the four of you get up from the kart, heading closer to the stage. not too close, but close enough to get a better view.

the music is loud, people’s voices echoing through your head. cigarette smoke enters your nostrils and the sounds of beer cans opening flood your ears.

you would think this type of scene isn’t for the triplets and you’re not wrong, but something about being in the wilderness is so calming.

matt wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close and swaying to the music. the only downside of this trip is that you can’t have sex.

not to sound like a fiend, but you get sexually frustrated when you go a few days without it. you bite your lip as you start getting dirty thoughts in your mind, squirming in your boyfriend’s grasp.

“you okay?” he asks, a little loud so you can hear him over the music.

“mhm,” you say with a nod.

you put your hands behind your back, reaching towards matt’s crotch. it’s dark enough that people can’t see what you’re doing, but they’re all distracted anyway. however, you’re so close to his body that people definitely can’t see what you’re doing.

you start to palm his dick through his jeans, and he takes an arm off your shoulder and holds your hand still. “stop.”

obviously, you don’t listen, and you move your hand again. he’s starting to grow at your touch, but grips your hand tighter. “stop.”

you look at him innocently over your shoulder, your hand movements becoming faster on his erection. he groans, thrusting his hips slightly into your palm.

“we’ll be right back,” he says out of nowhere, lifting you over his shoulder since he’s so much bigger than you. he walks away before the other two can say anything, and he doesn’t bother taking the golf kart.

nick and chris stare at each other. “they’re going to fuck.” chris says, taking a sip out of the pepsi that he brought with him.

“oh, yeah.” nick agrees.

the walk back to the trailer feels short as you giggle back. matt’s boner hurts like a bitch as he opens the door and goes into the bedroom, throwing you onto the bed. “think you’re funny, huh?” he says lowly, immediately taking his shirt and jeans off.

you don’t say anything. except you look at him with doe eyes. then, he starts taking off your clothes. you’ve been waiting for this.

his dick springs out when he takes his boxers down, and it does look like it hurts.

he starts to crawl on top of you but then flips over causing you to gasp. you’re now straddling his lap.

you don’t have a chance to react when he grabs your hips and slams you down onto his cock. you whine as you feel him stretch you out completely. you start to bounce slowly, putting your head into his neck to leave kisses.

matt hisses when you bite down, sucking and marking his neck. you repeat that action multiple times, still bouncing painfully slowly.

he sighs annoyingly, flipping you over once again and pulling you closer by the legs before slamming into you immediately at an ungodly pace.

“matt!” you scream, your nails digging into his shoulders. “f-fuck!”

“you think you can tease me and get away with it? think again, sweetheart.”

you whimper, your back arching with each thrust. you repeat his name along with moans and cries of pleasure.

“or is this what you wanted?” he asks, grunting at the sudden pain in his back as you drag your nails when he hits your g-spot suddenly. “i should’ve taken you right then and there so people know what a fucking slut you are.”

“i-i’m—” your cut off when your legs start to shake, your eyes rolling back when the knot in your stomach is close to snapping.

the scratches you’re leaving on matt’s back start to bleed the deeper your nails dig, and he moans at the feeling. “you’re going to make me cum if you keep doing that shit.” he says through gritted teeth, getting close to his orgasm because he knows he’s making you feel this good.

a shaky moan leaves your mouth when you start to cum around his dick. he grunts as he thrusts into you two or three more times before pulling out and cumming on your stomach.

you pant and quiver, a smug smile on your lips. matt turns his back to retrieve your guys’ clothes, and your eyes widen. his back is red, scratches of different shades running down his bare skin. “your back… is fucked up.” you say between pants.

he smirks. “wouldn’t be the first time.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

1K notes · View notes

seabirdtxt · 1 year

Text

Glitch in Irminsul

The creator descends to Teyvat, but the information they know VS the information that Irminsul retains causes the tree of knowledge to glitch out and ‘branches’ the current known state of Teyvat, and the information that was erased blooms into existence once more [Blog tag] [next >]

Notes: SAGAU, Reader is the Creator but no cult shenanigans. there ARE shenanigans of a different kind though. No romantic relationships in this one despite aforementioned shenanigans

WC. 3.8k

----- ⚘ -----

“You’re just mad because I’m the Creator’s babygirl, and you’re not.”

You’ve never heard such an absurd sentence in your life, but the hands on his hips and smug expression on the Wanderer’s face is unmistakable. Across from him, just barely restrained by Lord Rukkhadevata hooking her arms under his shoulders, is an apoplectic Scaramouche.

Nobody is entirely sure what happened to Irminsul, yet, but the Tree of Wisdom continues to cheerfully cast its divine light on the scene below without a single care for the chaos it has caused.

“Now now, let’s all settle down for a moment,” Nahida grasps at Wanderer’s sleeves, trying to pull him back from the increasingly tense situation. You can’t help but think of two dogs pulling at the end of their leashes to bark at each other. “I’m sure there is a perfectly logical reason why this is happening.”

You think it might be because of you, considering this all happened when you made your inopportune arrival in Teyvat and accidentally cut your hand on the stem of a Leyline flower, your blood glittering strangely as it was sucked into the plant.

“There’s no way you’re the Creator’s favourite,” Scaramouche sneers, ignoring Nahida in his effort to escape from Rukkhadevata’s grasp. “You’re just a glorified errand-boy for your betters. I have the power of a Fatui Harbinger at my fingertips! Countless soldiers, ready to live and die by my whims!”

“Ha!” Wanderer brushes off Nahida’s attempts to restrain him. He moves her to the side, far more gently than you expected him to, and strides up to where Lord Rukkhadevata is holding Scaramouche. He pokes the Balladeer’s cheek and smirks when he nearly gets his fingertip bit off. “And what has that gotten you so far? You still haven’t gotten to be a true god. On the other hand, I’m on the Creator’s main exploration team, along with the Traveler and other equally powerful Vision wielders. At least I have proof that I’m favoured.”

The light from Irminsul glints off the polished metal of Wanderer’s anemo Vision, and Scaramouche’s frown deepens.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Anyone and their mothers can get a Vision these days.” He waves his hand dismissively as best as he can. “Need I remind you of the Vision Hunt Decree project that I—oh, sorry, I mean you—spearheaded? Those things come a mora a dozen.”

“I think you’re both wrong, clearly the Creator likes me the best!”

The two incarnations turn toward the new voice so quickly you’re nearly afraid their heads might snap off. Picture this: you, sitting sideways across Kabukimono's lap with your arms around his neck in a hug as he rocks the two of you back and forth. You wonder if Kabukimono is aware of the effect his words have on his other selves, but judging by his ‘cat that caught the canary’ expression he most definitely is.

The look Wanderer gives you is nearly scandalized, and you can only shrug at him with a helpless smile.

“Sorry guys… but look at him! Isn’t he just the sweetest thing?” you bring a hand up and pinch Kabukimono’s cheek, causing him to giggle and kick his legs in surprise, nearly dislodging you from your spot.

“He’s kinda pathetic, really.” Scaramouche deadpans, finally having stopped struggling in Rukkhadevata’s hold, and attempts to cross his arms.

“He’s you. You don’t have to like him, but at least be polite.” the Greater Lord scolds, making him yelp by shaking him like a sack of rocks. She then changes to a more matter-of-fact tone as she shakes her hair out of her face, and adds: “If you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

“I agree, let’s talk this over like grown-ups, and get to the bottom of this mystery so we can send you all back home to your correct timelines!” Nahida claps her hands together, interrupting any argument that might break out at Rukkhadevata’s statement. Her smile is starting to look a little strained at the edges and you can’t help but feel a little bad for the tiny god.

“This might be the only correct timeline,” the Traveler mutters, chin resting in their hand where they sit propped up against one of Irminsul’s invisible walls.

“That’s right!” Paimon nods and shakes her finger at Nahida. “We assumed only the Descenders’ memories would remain intact when someone erases themself from Irminsul, but clearly the Creator’s memories still exist too!”

Lord Rukkhadevata drops Scaramouche at last, letting him land on the ground with an annoyed oof, and turns to you consideringly. The taller god glances between you and Irminsul, worrying her bottom lip as she thinks.

“If that were wholly true, then wouldn’t I have reappeared in my last known state, diminished to the form of a child due to having depleted my power?” she wonders. “And for that matter, why have two versions of the Wanderer appeared, when the previous erased timeline only contained the Balladeer?”

The Traveler hums as they begin to think out loud, and your attention shifts to them when they address you. “When we found you, your Grace, you were recently injured by a Leyline blossom, correct?”

You nod in agreement, not bothering to speak as you settle more comfortably into Kabukimono’s arms, the long sleeves of his kimono wrapping over you like a blanket. Whatever mechanism is inside him causes his entire chest to vibrate against the side of your head, as if he’s purring.

“And you did mention that your blood was absorbed into the flower, which we know is an extension of the Tree of Wisdom…”

“I think I can see where you’re going with this, Traveler,” Nahida interrupts. Using her power, she draws two green puzzle pieces in the air and slowly pushes them together until one of them overlaps with the other. “If the Creator’s memories are intact, then it stands to reason that, should their memories somehow be introduced into Irminsul, then the information with the greater priority will overwrite the previous existing information.”

“That still doesn’t explain why there’s three of me.” Wanderer crosses his arms and kicks Scaramouche, who has yet to get up. The Balladeer crosses his own arms, pointedly ignoring his newer incarnation.

“I believe I can answer that, now.” Lord Rukkhadevata jerks her thumb toward the Tree of Wisdom. “Having known Irminsul my entire existence, I can sense that there have been deviations in its growth. Where normally the trunk and branches originate from a single organism, there are now several branches that seem to be… grafted, for lack of a better term, onto the main plant. Likely a result of the Creator’s mishap.”

“So instead of overwriting or restoring knowledge into the correct branches, it just got added on to the side?” Paimon asks, floating closer to the tree before the Traveler grabs her by the back of her cloak and pulls her back before she can accidentally touch any of the sprouts.

Nahida claps excitedly. “Correct! All available information is now running concurrently, meaning that all states of being have been altered to allow the five of us to exist at the same time!”

“Oh!” you exclaim, startling Kabukimono out of his contented state. “Like a glitch in the matrix!”

Seven pairs of eyes turn directly toward you, varying degrees of bemusement on each of their faces. You chuckle a bit and sink further into Kabukimono’s lap out of embarrassment. He dutifully wraps his arms tighter around you, obscuring you with his long sleeves.

“So we’re just going to let you not elaborate on that at all?” Scaramouche drawls, throwing a hand in your direction. “By all means, keep us in suspense. It’s not like we need to know what our situation is or anything.”

“It’s really not that helpful, I promise!” you tell them, muffled by the kimono’s fabric. “It’s just… a figure of speech, I guess? It’s just something we say when something unexplainable happens. It’s based off this story where, like, the world is fake-”

At this, Scaramouche and the Wanderer share a brief glance, unnoticed by the rest.

“- and everything is programmed to be a certain way. So when something unexplainable happens, like if you see a black cat walking past you and then a minute later the exact same cat walks past you again! It’s an error, or a glitch, in the programming of the world.”

Nahida and Rukkhadevata head over to investigate the new growths on Irminsul, discussing what you’ve told them in hushed voices, leaving the Traveler to mitigate the situation with the three puppets. Kabukimono clings to you as Scaramouche attempts to pull you out of his lap, the two of them making you wince as you’re forced to withstand their tug of war.

“No! The Creator is my friend now!” Kabukimono protests. “Stop pulling, you’ll hurt them!”

“Then let go and it won’t hurt them anymore, stupid!”

“Niwa told me you have to be nice to people if you want them to do things for you.”

“I know for a fact your precious Niwa also said I’m allowed to take whatever the hell I want, so give!”

“I really don’t think that’s what he meant by that,” Wanderer interjects, coming between the two of them and forcing them apart. “Besides, does the creator call you guys babygirl? No? Didn’t think so, so I’ll be taking my leave now.”

Taking advantage of their surprise, Wanderer scoops you up and launches into the air, anemo power whirring behind him, putting you both out of reach. You shriek at the sudden movement, holding onto the front of Wanderer’s outfit for dear life.

“What, this again? I’m not sure if you want me to be jealous of you, or pity you.” Scaramouche scowls up at where you two are hovering. He tries to look unaffected but you can see him clenching his fists at his side.

“I still don’t actually know what that’s supposed to mean…” Kabukimono wrings his hands and looks between you and the Traveler, who supplies an explanation for you.

“It’s just a term of endearment from the Creator’s world,” they say. “You wouldn’t believe how often I had to hear it when they were possessing me-”

“Hey, what are you doing?!”

Everyone turns to look at where you and Wanderer are. The puppet is trying not to drop you while also batting away your attempts at removing the outer layer of his outfit.

“Hold still!” you grumble. “I’m just trying to figure out if you can purr, too, but I can’t hear anything over the sound of your anemo ability.”

“What are you talking about?! I don’t purr!”

“I do!”

The four of you turn to Kabukimono as he demonstrates the ability, the mechanisms in him working overtime to produce a loud rumble from his chest. The Traveler and Paimon are particularly impressed, and Kabukimono preens under their attention.

“Cut that out, idiot,” Scaramouche smacks the back of Kabukimono’s head, successfully cutting off the noise. “You’re just going to overheat, and then we’ll be stuck carrying around your powered-down body until you start up again.”

“You know how he does that? Does that mean you can do it too?” Paimon asks, her face scrunched up at the idea of the Balladeer doing anything that could be seen as endearing.

“Absolutely not.”

“We can all do that,” Wanderer says at the same time, earning a betrayed look from Scaramouche. “It’s not purring though. You all remember that we’re puppets, right?”

“Yeah….?” The Traveler nods along with Paimon.

“Well, the prototype machinery inside us is what makes that noise.” Wanderer explains. “We can control the speed and make it as slow or as fast as we want, so making it run extra fast makes it louder. However, it also makes the machinery heat up, and if it gets too hot then the failsafe kicks in and shuts off the entire system.”

“Does that mean the Raiden Shogun can purr, too?” The Traveler wonders out loud, successfully distracting Paimon with the absurdity of that mental image.

“What happens to you if it overheats?” You ask, wondering if you should feel bad for enjoying it when Kabukimono purred.

“It’s like fainting for humans,” Scaramouche adds. “Which is why we don’t do that. Nobody likes having to carry around a useless burden.”

“But it’s not dangerous, is it?”

“No, it’s just a lot of trouble. Same as for humans, but no. No lasting damage.” Wanderer then sighs and makes a face even as he pulls you into a semblance of a hug. “Here, I’ll allow it this time, because it’s you...”

Your eyes widen as Wanderer begins to purr as well, audible even over the sound of his anemo power. With a delighted gasp, you throw your arms around him and listen happily, unaware of the glares Wanderer is receiving from below. The Traveler rolls their eyes when Wanderer points at your back and mouths ‘favourite’ at Scaramouche.

“Wanderer, if you’re done being jealous could you please bring the Creator back down?” Nahida calls, and you peek down to see that she and Lord Rukkhadevata have finished their discussion. They wait below, where Scaramouche and Kabukimono were earlier. The two puppets are now a little bit further away, bickering while the Traveler supervises them.

“I’m jealous?” Wanderer scoffs, hoisting you up so you can rest on his hip as he holds you with one hand, the other used to gesture down at Nahida rudely. “You even dare to imply-”

“Please bring the Creator down.” Rukkhadevata repeats, hands on her hips. “Don’t make me come up there and get you.”

You have to stifle a laugh as Wanderer slowly brings the two of you back down, making sure your feet are firmly on the ground before letting you go. You don’t bother to mention how you notice that Wanderer’s body actually is noticeably warmer after purring. You smooth the wrinkles of your clothes and turn to the two Dendro Archons with a smile.

“You guys give off such mom energy,” you tell them. “So, what’s up? Did you figure out anything else?”

“You forget that I was a queen before I was a god,” Rukkhadevata points out. “I know what it’s like to stymie conflict before it becomes a problem. Diplomatically, of course.”

Nahida nods in agreement. “Of course. And yes, Your Grace, we did come to some conclusions! Though, not all of them are final, mostly regarding Wanderer and his counterparts. There are some hypotheses we will need to investigate before we can say for sure…”

“Still kinda wish you wouldn’t call me that,” you mutter, rubbing the back of your neck. The lofty title is uncomfortable to hear, when you still feel like any ordinary person. “But let’s hear it then. What did you guys come up with?”

“For the most part, exactly the same conclusion that we came to earlier.” Nahida says, drawing in the air with glowing green lines. She draws a tree, and then draws some branches in a different shade. “Your arrival in Teyvat brought a ‘backup’ of knowledge which, when reintroduced to the Leylines, conflicted with the current state of things and instead created additional information that now exists at the same time as the current timeline.”

“That being said,” Rukkhadevata adds her own glowing lines to Nahida’s drawing, in a deeper and more intense green. She circles one branch, and says: “I believe that this timeline’s Dendro Archon remains Lesser Lord Kusanali. Irminsul seems to have resolved this conflict by making it so that my sacrifice to eradicate Forbidden Knowledge was not my life, but rather my godhood.”

“What does that mean for you?” You ask.

“It means that I am now happily retired!” Rukkhadevata exclaims, smiling brightly. “And from what I’ve seen of the information recorded in Irminsul, I have an old friend in Liyue who also recently finds himself with a wealth of spare time. It’s been a few centuries since I last saw him, perhaps I should pay him a visit.”

“Wow, congratulations! I’m sure Zhongli would be glad for the company.” You hug her excitedly, and she returns the gesture with a bright laugh.

“Is that the name he’s going by, now? It would certainly help to have a less recognisable name, I suppose…” Rukkhadevata ponders, and you can hear her humming as she thinks. “Well, if that’s the case, I’ll just use my old name. From now on, please call me Aranyani!”

Nahida joins in on your hug, practically bouncing with excitement, and you pick up the tiny god so she can see you both. “I’m so glad for you, Aranyani! I’ve always wanted to meet you,” she exclaims with a shy smile. “I have so many things I want to ask!”

“And you are always free to share in my knowledge, little sapling,” Aranyani coos, patting Nahida’s head affectionately before you all release each other, letting Nahida back down gently.

“So what are we going to do about those two clowns?” Wanderer says and you jump a little in surprise, forgetting he was still there.

You turn to where the rest of the group is. Kabukimono seems to have finally had enough and is tousling on the floor with Scaramouche. The Traveler is attempting to haul the Balladeer away, while Paimon grabs onto the back of Kabukimono’s veil and is yanking him in the other direction. To a very small degree of effectiveness.

“Both of you, please stop!” Nahida rushes forward, and the two puppets spring apart like the other is on fire.

“He started it!” Kabukimono points at Scaramouche accusingly and the Balladeer moves to grab him again, but is easily stopped by the Traveler pulling him back by grabbing his wrists.

“It doesn’t matter who started it,” you sigh, putting your hands on your hips. You put on a stern face and your best ‘disappointed parent’ voice. “I sort of expected more from you two…”

Kabukimono’s devastated expression is enough for you to drop the pretense. You sigh and open your arms and beckon, and Kabukimono happily throws himself into your hug.

“Fine, fine!” You grumble, patting the top of Kabukimono’s head. “As long as you guys aren’t, like, maiming or seriously injuring each other, I guess it’s okay.”

“Yay!”

That’s about as far as you get before Nahida takes Kabukimono’s hand and leads him away, and begins informing him of the history of the world and catching him up to speed on the current timeline. Wanderer and the Traveler chime in every so often, adding in some details that the archon might have missed. Aranyani seems to have already taken her leave, leaving only you and Scaramouche behind.

You pretend not to notice as the disgruntled ex-Harbinger shuffles closer to you, until he bumps his shoulder against yours.

“Hey,” he begins, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I’ve been meaning to ask, but all these annoying idiots kept interrupting me…”

You wait for a minute, until it’s clear he isn’t going to continue until you say something. “Yes? What’s the matter?”

He exhales through his nose and refuses to make eye contact with you. At the edges of your vision, you can see him fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” he finally spits out. “I mean, clearly I don’t quite fit in with the rest of these happy-go-lucky morons. I can’t imagine you intended for someone like me to show up.”

“Why not?” You blurt out, more out of surprise than anything else. “I like having you here.” It’s clearly the wrong thing to say, as Scaramouche begins to close off again.

“Don't bother lying to me,” he snaps, facing you with the full brunt of his annoyance. He crosses his arms and sneers at you, looking at you down the bridge of his nose. “I’m not some sad, weak little puppet who needs to be coddled by the likes of you. So save your meaningless placations for someone who would actually feel better after hearing them. You’re only wasting your time, and mine.”

“Okay, no lies then,” you nod, and watch as he braces himself for whatever you’ll say next. “I’m glad you’re here, in a world where every part of you can exist at the same time. And I’m glad I can be here with you to remind you that you’re the sum of all your parts, good and bad, and that I do want you to be here, in all your entirety.”

Scaramouche’s face is carefully blank, and you wonder for a second if he somehow shut down without you noticing. You wave a hand in front of his face, watching as his eyes track your palm. You’re about to say something else when you feel a hand come down on your shoulder heavily.

“Simp.” Wanderer states, patting you with a teasing look on his face.

“What?!” You jump away from him with an indignant squawk. “I am not-”

“Absolutely down bad.” The Traveler adds, and you reach clumsily to slap at the two of them. You miss both by miles.

“I can’t believe I taught you guys words from my world and this is how you repay me!”

“Sorry to interrupt, Your Grace!” Nahida looks properly apologetic at the treatment you’re receiving. “We were just discussing what to do with all of the new people. The Traveler has kindly offered to introduce you to their friendly teapot adeptus in order to have a realm created for you, and Wanderer’s incarnations can stay with you in the new realm!”

“That’s perfect!” you say quickly, eager to escape any more teasing from your team. You avoid Scaramouche’s probing gaze and turn your heated face away from him to look at Nahida and the Traveler. “When can we go? Can we go right now?”

The Traveler nods and holds out a thin tab of wood that you recognize as their realm dispatch. It’s strange to see it in person, for some reason you expected it to be bigger than it actually is. The entire thing can fit in the palm of one hand, like a credit card. “We can go as soon as you’re authorized, Your Grace!”

You’re giddy as you take the dispatch into your hands, rubbing the engraved surface with reverence. You feel a strange sensation, like pins and needles, as the magic in the dispatch settles over you. “This is so cool, you guys. I can’t wait to meet Tubby! Do you think she’ll make me a teapot, too, or something else?”

In your excitement you grab onto both the Traveler and Wanderer, silently begging them to come with you. Just as the three of you touch the surface of the teapot, Wanderer turns to Scaramouche with a pointed look and grins.

“Favourite.” He says smugly as he vanishes.

#genshin sagau #sagau #genshin impact #genshin self aware au #genshin isekai #self aware genshin #genshin scaramouche #genshin wanderer #genshin kabukimono #sagau scaramouche #sagau wanderer #sagau kabukimono #sagau x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kabukimono x reader #< all currently platonic tho #seabird.txt #glitch in irminsul AU

2K notes · View notes

vanwritesfan-fiction · 7 months

Text

Staring Down the Barrel of Your Gun

Bucky teaches you to shoot a gun when he realizes he won't always be there to protect you.

Warnings: all of my work is 18+ only, but language, references to gun usage and gun terminology, mentions of Bucky as the Winter Soldier, Bucky scaring the reader with his actions

A/N: This takes place during the events of the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, specifically at Sarah's house in Louisiana. Also I don't know much about guns, so take the terminology as a work of fiction for the sake of the story

"Buck, I'm starving. Can we please take a break?" You groaned, looking over to the porch, the door to Sarah's kitchen wide open so the scent of pancakes wafted through the open air. You had been up since sunrise with your boyfriend running gun handling drills under the cover of the trees behind the Wilson's house Your hands ached from palming the steel grip, your finger on and off the trigger at Bucky's command.

"Pay attention, doll. If you're in danger, you can't afford to lose focus. Now get in your stance." Bucky nodded at the target in front of you about 100 feet away, a blacked out silhouette that was tacked to a far tree, riddled with bullet holes from your previous shots. You wiped the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. Even though it was barely April, the Louisiana humidity made it feel at least 20 degrees warmer, even in the early morning. You let the gun drop to your side as you shook out your sore arms.

"Never point your gun down to the ground like that." His sharp tone startled you into position. Bucky was barking orders and corrections at you, and it was starting to get on your nerves. You grumbled expletives at him, that his super hearing definitely picked up but chose to ignore for the sake of your training. You lifted your arms out in front of you, one hand layered on top of the other as you focused on your target. Stance, Lift, Target, Safety, Trigger. Bucky's words from your previous trainings echoed through your mind. He had drilled the commands into you with repetition.

"Your footings all wrong." You let out a sharp breath, holding your tongue from giving Bucky a piece of your mind as you removed your finger from the trigger. You felt his metal hand on your left hip, his leg forcing your left foot forward so you had a staggered stance. "Stand straight up and the recoil will knock you on your ass." He stood back, examining you like you were under a microscope. "Alright, go."

Again, you planted your footing, going through the motions in your mind.

Stance, Lift, Target, Safety, Trigger.

You felt a warm breeze hit your face, the wind whistling in your ears. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, holding it as you slowly opened your eyes, focusing in on your target. Finally, you allowed the breath to leave your lungs. You were about to pull the trigger when Bucky stopped you again. "Wrong."

"What, now?", you gritted out between clenched teeth. His hands were on your body again, this time at your elbows, pulling your arms back a toward you. "You'll break your arms if you stand rigid", Bucky whispered, his tone gravelly, "you need to be strong, not stiff". His breath against your ear sent a shiver down your spine. Bucky's hands were no stranger to the contours of your body, and usually you welcomed his touch, but out here he was rough with you in a way you didn't like, forcing you into certain positions when he felt like you weren't following his instructions.

"Now, do it again. Right this time." For the third time, you positioned your feet, Stance, lifted your arms out in front of you, Lift, to the height of your target, Target, closed your eyes and took in a sharp breath as you removed the safety, Safety, and placed your hand on the trigger prepared to pull, Trigger.

Bucky watched you intently as you stood frozen, your chest heaving with each breath. Bucky had been training you for days, and your target was proof that you weren't shy with a gun, but for some reason you couldn't pull the trigger.

"Shoot." You couldn't hear Bucky as he tried to grab your attention, the ringing in your ears drowning out all other sound.

"Shoot the gun." He was shouting against the silence, his patience wearing thin. "Shoot the damn gun, doll."

You blinked and Bucky was standing in front of you, the barrel of the gun pressed against his forehead.

"Bucky, what are you doing?" Your question was just above a whisper. You tried to move, but couldn't, as if you had lost control of your body. "I said shoot the gun." His tone was even, as if he was telling you about his day. He had a vacant stare as he looked through you, and for a second you thought you saw a glimpse of the monster buried just beneath the surface.

"Buck, I'm not going to shoot you." Your voice was shaky, but he was unmoving.

"Shoot the gun, now." He grabbed at the gun with his vibranium limb, holding it to the middle of his forehead. You saw the steel barrel buckle under his grip. Bucky didn't see you as his girlfriend, the love of his life, but as a soldier. A soldier who was disobeying his direct order.

Tears were brimming your eyes, blurring your vision. You felt the heat creep up your neck as your hands went numb from holding your arms up for so long. You weren't sure how you got here, starting the morning training with Bucky, to suddenly being forced to make an impossible decision in front of the Winter Soldier.

"No, Bucky." You dropped your arms, feeling the weight of the gun as you put the safety back on, letting it fall to the ground. He took a step toward you to pick the gun up, and you backed away instinctively, cowering away from him. Bucky's gaze softened as he realized that you were terrified, your hands shaking. "Baby, I-".

"Food's ready, if you two love birds can take a break from your tactical training." You heard Sam's booming voice as he bounded down the stairs of the back porch, quickly reaching the two of you with his wide stride. His smile quickly dropped when he noticed your tears, Bucky's facial expression stoic. He sensed the tension between the two of you, clearing his throat. "Everything okay out here?"

You wiped a stray tear from your cheek, giving him a weak smile. "I've lost my appetite." You quickly turned away, jogging back to the house, falling just out of Bucky's reach as he called out to you. "Doll, wait." He moved to follow after you when Sam stopped him, a hand to his chest.

"What did you do?" Bucky shrugged him off, pushing past Sam.

"Why was she crying?" Sam continued to push, right on Bucky's heels. "Better crying than dead."

Sam stepped in front of Bucky, shoving him hard at the shoulders. Bucky barely stumbled back, but he got the message, stopping in his tracks. "What did you do?" Sam repeated himself, his anger evident.

Bucky collided with Sam, puffing out his chest. "She hesitated. You hesitate, you die. You think for a second too long, you die. I told her to shoot me, and she hesitated." He couldn't make eye contact with Sam, looking just past him toward the house. He needed to make sure you were okay.

"You asked her to shoot you? What are you, psychotic?" Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. Bucky had made so many strides to separate himself from the Soldat; the therapy, working to right his wrongs, and sometimes, the dark side of Bucky would seep out, and Sam wondered if it was all for naught.

"Maybe I am", Bucky edged out, finally looking Sam in the face.

"What are you doing, man?" Sam tried to appeal to Bucky's humanity, the side of him he knew was crazy about you. "You're gonna push her away if you keep doing this."

"Doing what? Trying to protect her? I'm not always going to be around, and-". Sam could see the life return to Bucky's eyes, a sadness washing over him.

"and what, Buck?" Sam continued to push.

"and I can't lose her." Bucky could usually push his feelings to the recesses of his mind, but he felt it all crumbling down around him, the weight crushing on his chest. "The gun drills, the tactical training, they're all so she can protect herself. I know I agreed to be a part of the Avengers, to give up my life to save others, but with all that we've lost, Sam, everyone we've lost, this world just continues to prove that it doesn't play fair. No matter what I do, how I try to protect her, none of it seems to matter. I can't and I will not lose her. So she cannot hesitate. She hesitates, she dies."

Sam sighed as he rested a hand on Bucky's shoulder. He knew that Bucky was right; being an Avenger meant nothing if they couldn't take care of the ones they loved. "Buck, I get it. I've got a sister and two nephews who are always on my mind. I hate the fact that we went from being on the top of the world, to realizing that no one gave a shit about us." He was standing on his convictions, trying to rescue his family's business and save his sister's house all at the same time.

"But there are enough monsters and villains in this world, she doesn't need you to be another one in her life. Fix this, Bucky. Don't lose her like this."

****

The house quieted as Bucky entered the kitchen. AJ and Cass whispered to each other as they pushed the last bites of their pancakes around their plate. Sarah watched Bucky out of the corner of her eye as he circled the room. "There's some food left over, probably cold by now" Sarah muttered as she sunk further into her seat at the dining table, taking a sip of her coffee.

Bucky chose to ignore their response to his spectacle, his focus on you. "Where's Y/N? I need to talk to her first."

Sarah nodded, rolling her eyes at Bucky. "Mhm, you sure do. She's upstairs."

Bucky took the stairs two at a time as he searched the house for you.

You had the parts of the Glock 19 Bucky had given you, organized out on the desk of the guest room you were staying in when Bucky found you down the hall. He stood at the doorway, watching as you cleaned every inch with a cloth, just as he had taught you. A small smile slipped on his face when he realized you had been paying attention.

"If you want me to shoot you, you'll have to wait", you called over your shoulder, not bothering to look at him. Bucky rubbed his jawline as he sat on the edge of the bed behind you.

"I know you don't agree with my methods of teaching-", Bucky started. "Your methods?", you scoffed, dropping the magazine on the desk, the metal clattering against the table. You turned to him, your anger brimming at the surface. "You're tryna justify that stunt you pulled as a teachable moment?" You felt your throat go dry at the memory of holding a gun to your boyfriend's head, momentarily holding his life in your hands.

"I need you to know how to protect yourself. There are people out there, terrible people, who would do anything to get to me, including hurting you." You turned back to the desk, gently placing your hands on your thighs. You closed your eyes again, taking a deep breath. "Doll, are you listening to me?" Bucky tried to grab your attention.

Choosing not to respond, you instead stood and grabbed the grip of your gun, briefly examining the piece before you made quick work of connecting each component to reassemble the gun, the metal clicking as each part connected. Bucky watched in awe as you moved with the precision that he had only seen from soldiers during his time in the military. You slipped the full magazine into the gun, slamming it in place before you pointed the assembled gun at the vintage dresser that Sarah had set up in the corner of the room, in perfect stance, your arms stretched out just enough to brace for the recoil.

"Is that trained enough for you, Sargent Barnes?" You smirked, your words dripping with sarcasm without an ounce of humor in your voice.

"Alright." Bucky snatched at the barrel, taking the gun from you, jogging you out of your trance. "You've made your point." He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans.

You dropped down onto the bed, looking up at Bucky, tears welling in your eyes again. He sat down next you, his arm brushing against yours. You felt him gently squeeze at your thigh, once again feeling the touch that you knew belonged to your Bucky, the Winter Soldier long gone.

"I knew what I was getting into, Buck. I knew who you were, what you had done, and all of the danger that came with being with you." You placed your hand atop his, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. "and if that danger ever comes, you've prepared me to the best of your ability." Bucky cradled the side of your head in his hand, placing a kiss on your temple. You both sat in silence for a moment before you continued.

"But I could-, I would never be able to hold a gun to your head, let alone pull the trigger. If you think I ever could, you don't know me at all." You let out a shaky breath. "Buck, I was terrified. That wasn't you out there." Bucky's back straightened at your words. He retreated into himself, turning his gaze to the floor, trying to pull his hands into his lap, but you wouldn't let him. You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "Tell me the truth. Is the Winter Soldier gone for good?"

He wanted desperately to tell you yes, that the only part of him that remained was James Buchanan Barnes, the boy from Brooklyn, friend to Steve Rogers, the man you loved, someone who would never dare to hurt you, but that would be a lie.

"Yes, the Winter Soldier is gone, and he's never coming back."

You pulled Bucky in for a kiss by his chin, your lips barely grazing his before he had you in his grasp, his returning kiss passionate, as if he was apologizing in all the ways his words would fall short.

The Winter Soldier was still a part of him for now, but he'd do anything to protect you, even from himself.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #marvel fan fiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #the winter soldier #the winter solider x reader #the winter soldier fanfiction

421 notes · View notes

milling-around · 1 month

Text

The Bad Batch Finale and Joel Aron’s cryptic tweet

Okay so Joel Aron, Director of Cinematography Lighting & VFX at Lucasfilm, tweeted this:

Initially, I thought that this was going to be the runtime of S3E15 The Cavalry Has Arrived. This episode being longer would make sense as it’s the finale of the show and it’s close in length to S1E1 Aftermath. However, I saw a screenshot floating around the other day that says the runtime of the final episode “spans 24 to 25 minutes”.

If this episode is the typical length then this timestamp must be referring to a different piece of media. The question is, what media? In an effort to determine what could happen in the finale, I went to that point in the films to see what I would find. None of them strike as much fear in me as what’s happening in A New Hope.

The Phantom Menace - Anakin has just won the pod race and they are celebrating his victory.

Attack of the Clones - Jango Fett and Boba Fett have just attacked Obi-Wan with seismic charges.

Revenge of the Sith - Anakin is looking out over Coruscant from the Jedi Council room. He has just revealed to Mace Windu that Palpatine is a Sith.

A New Hope - Before leaving to disable the tractor beam on the Death Star, Obi-Wan delivers a line which may foreshadow what’s to come in The Bad Batch.

Empire Strikes Back - Luke is trying to lift the ship out of the swamp on Dagobah.

Return of the Jedi - Luke, Han, and Chewbacca, along with the droids, are captured by the Ewoks.

Star Wars: The Clone Wars - Anakin and Ahsoka are heading towards Tatooine to deliver Jabba’s son back to him.

At 01:09:56:01 in A New Hope, or as close to it as I could get (Disney+ sucks) this is what we see:

Sorry it’s a photo of my computer, I don’t know how y’all take screenshots of Disney+.

“Your destiny lies along a different path from mine.”

Many people have been theorising that the show could end with the Batch and Omega surviving but being separated, either by choice or by circumstance. This line from A New Hope, as well as the fact that Omega’s voice actor, Michelle Ang, has described the ending as “bittersweet”, definitely make that a solid theory.

Maybe I’m barking up the wrong tree though. There’s also speculation about whether Omega is force sensitive, so maybe Luke using the force in Empire Strikes Back is the real clue. Despite Ventress not believing Omega to have a high m-count, and her not being one of Hemlock’s designated m-count specimens, we have seen characters with a low m-count who were capable of wielding the force. Sabine Wren, for example.

Still, Omega being force sensitive doesn’t prevent the theory that she gets separated from the Batch from being true. It could actually be a reason for that separation because she may pursue training or decide that her proximity to the Batch endangers them.

But wait, there’s more!

At this timestamp in S1E1 Aftermath, Omega is on the Marauder with the Bad Batch (minus Crosshair) and they’re setting off on what will be her first big adventure. Omega’s Theme is playing and she’s gazing out at space with child-like wonder. While they’ve just parted ways with Crosshair, the overall feeling in this scene is hopeful.

If the tweet is referring to this episode, it could mean that we get a wholesome Bad Batch family moment. Whether Tech is there or not may rely on CX-2 being unmasked. Perhaps it’s bittersweet because Tech truly is dead or because he’s alive but they cannot save him from the Empire. Or maybe it’s bittersweet for a whole host of other reasons.

Honourable mention

@kiffobaby also looked into what is happening at this timestamp if you combine the runtimes (including credits) of all episodes in clone relevant story arcs and didn’t really find anything of note. If credits were removed then it would put at us a different point in the arc, however it’s unlikely that we’d be looking for a timestamp in an arcs combined duration anyway.

If you’ve read this far, I love you and don’t worry, we’re almost done.

Secret 16th episode?

Seasons 1 and 2 each had 16 episodes which leads me to speculate that this timestamp could actually be the runtime of the final episode, a secret 16th episode.

Is it likely? No. Can I dream? Yes.

160 notes · View notes

inoreuct · 4 months

Text

been thinking about asura zoro lately.

possibly a prince sanji au where sora’s kicked her shitstain of an ex-husband out of the kingdom and his siblings are going through behavioural therapy,,,

at any rate, sanji’s wandering across the grounds one afternoon and he sees someone sitting beneath his favourite apple tree in the middle of the field. he thinks it’s yonji at first, but no— the hair’s too short and the wrong shade of green. less neon than his brother’s electric lime and more like… moss.

the man has one leg propped up with his arm resting on his knee, an apple clutched loosely in his hand. he turns as the grass rustles with sanji’s steps and sanji notes the vertical scar over his left eye that cuts through his brow and down his cheek. “you’re in my spot.”

“hm,” the man says, completely unbothered. he lifts the apple to take a bite and his open robe shifts with the wind, the hilts of the three swords tucked into his sash knocking gently against each other.

sanji narrows his eyes. “move.”

a slow, lazy grin. “no.”

“you—!” the prince is just about ready to boot this guy in the ass. “you do realise who i am, don’t you?”

“no,” the man repeats, shrugging a shoulder and peering down at his apple before taking another bite.

that gives sanji pause. everybody knows who he is. it’s inescapable— queen sora’s kindest son, with the golden hair and a heart to match. ocean eyes and the hands of a chef and legs steadier than any sailor’s. he has a duty to fulfil and an image to uphold, and it’s—

well. it’s just that sometimes, he thinks that he wasn’t made for this life at all— that he was meant to be out there, on the ocean, skipping over the waves with the wind in his hair and the sun on his brow, feeling the grit of sand between his teeth. he has satisfied himself with the comforts of royal life, with the orchards and the kitchens, but something pulls at him still. it tugs his heart towards the coast and whispers for him to shed the courtly graces he wears as tangibly as the cloak over his shoulders.

sanji is quiet as he reaches up, swallowing over the soft click of the clasp before red velvet falls into his hand. he drops it to the grass and lets it pool, puts one palm on the ground before settling against worn, rough bark and letting the pattern press into the skin of his spine.

“it’s peaceful here.” the man’s voice is low, slipping beneath the soft sigh of wind. “quiet.”

“it hadn’t always been,” sanji says, before he can stop himself. he has no reason to be doing this— to be saying anything at all, much less sitting down. he should be yelling for the guards and then taking this guy out himself. he’s a stranger who’d somehow made it onto royal grounds, through the extensive defences they had; one with three swords and scars, sanji reminds himself as he eyes the gnarly line of pearly tissue running diagonally down the man’s chest. he’s, by all definitions, a threat.

and yet, sanji hasn’t felt anything at all. no hostility, no fear— just… stillness, if he had to put a word to it. a sort of calm.

“the king… he was cruel,” he continues softly. “he treated my siblings and i like lab rats to be used. my mother was nothing more than a pretty thing to fill a space beside him. this palace, this kingdom used to be filled with war and pain and noise.” sanji chances a glance up to find the man already looking at him, and he quickly looks away. “sometimes, he’d come back from war stinking of blood and death. even worse was when he’d bring my siblings with him. he forced them to fight, see— didn’t even give them a choice, because of his experiments.”

the words are bitter as he spits them out, and sanji feels his hair bunch when he tilts his head back against the tree and blows out a breath. “i was always the failure.” the grass is damp with dew as he rubs a few blades between his fingers. “the weak one. the useless one. and i was the one who dragged him outside the city gates and told him that if i ever saw him again i’d take his head.”

he’s no longer as angry about it, he thinks. sanji has spent enough of his life being angry. the thought just carries a muted tone now, satisfied and a little victorious but also resigned— sometimes he looks at fathers in the squares and the markets, carrying their children on their shoulders and indulging them in the smallest of things, overpriced candy and tag on the dusty cobblestones, and his eyes burn. he should have had that. he never did, and he never will.

sanji lets his eyebrows flash up, swallowing against the tightness in his chest. “i don’t know why i’m telling you all this, anyway,” he says with a light, forced laugh. “i don’t even know who the hell you are.”

“nobody important,” the man hums. “not yet. but one day i’ll be the greatest swordsman in the world.”

the prince believes it. he feels something now, at least— a presence of sorts, like pressure from all sides, present but not pushing. just there. “i think… i want to get out of here.”

again, he doesn’t know why he says it. he has the urge to slap a hand over his mouth as soon as he does, in fact. because everything’s fine now, everything’s finally going well; judge is gone, his siblings are safe, his mother is safe, and he should be happy. he is happy. he gets to cook all he wants and he’s—

he’s not. he’s not happy. he wants to go, wants to— to grab a boat and disappear, sail to the edge of the horizon and then beyond. it aches in his chest like someone’s squeezing his heart, fingertips digging into tough muscle, and he rubs the heel of his hand through the fine weave of his shirt.

the man bites into his apple again, and the crisp crunch cuts through the still air. sanji lets his eyes slip shut.

“where do you want to go?” the man asks.

sanji laughs, a soundless exhale. “the all blue. it’s an ocean with every kind of fish you could imagine and then some. i want to open a restaurant. a place of my own where nobody will ever go hungry.”

a pause, and then the man turns to look at him. “do you know why i’m here?”

“no.” sanji cracks an eye open, sighing impatiently. “why?”

“the change. all this place has known for years was turmoil and war and chaos. and then suddenly… it all went silent.” he eyes sanji unreadably. “somebody took notice.”

somebody, huh? if sanji’s dealing with a religious nutcase, he might just burst into laughter. or knock this guy out. maybe both. “you believe in god, then?”

“no,” the man says flatly. “and even if one did exist, they didn’t help you then. they won’t help you now.”

the blonds’s eyes narrow as he sits up straight and slowly raises an eyebrow. “if that’s supposed to be a threat, mosshead, i’m not scared of you.”

“mosshead?!” the other splutters, the first sign of real human emotion sanji’s seen on him, and sanji laughs.

“it fits!”

“it’s—”

“blasphemous? disrespectful?” sanji teases, somehow more at ease than he’s felt in ages. he doesn’t know who this man is, and who he is doesn’t matter— he’s free to run his mouth, and he damn well will.

“you should be scared of me, you know,” the man says, voice gritty, and sanji smirks.

“why so?”

and— oh.

that presence from before increases exponentially, until he feels sweat bead beneath his collar. dirt gathers beneath his fingernails as he scrabbles backwards, instinctive, throat bobbing as he counts three, four, six arms, and three heads, and three grey eyes glinting like watered steel. wind whips through the clearing, shaking the branches of the tree— sanji reminds himself to close his mouth as he sits beneath the rustling, as black tendrils of shadow snake through the air, swelling around the man’s silhouette, silky and molten. it’s not just that overwhelming, omnipresent aura; he’s got to be two heads taller than a normal man at least.

sanji’s breath is stuck in his throat. and then he looks down; that half-eaten apple is still there, shiny and red. the man’s swords — nine of them, now — clatter gently by his hips, and his earrings jingle with something that almost sounds like gentle laughter, and his hair is still impossibly green.

“…is this supposed to be intimidating?” he offers, climbing to his feet with a bored cock of his hip. “i mean, it’s impressive and all, mossy, don’t get me wrong, but—”

the man’s form snaps back to normal in an instant, leaving him with an almost comical look of disbelief on his face. “you’re fuckin’ crazy.”

“i’m traumatised,” sanji corrects, cackling. “after my bastard of a sperm donor, i doubt i could be scared of much else. besides, you haven’t done anything but talk to me. that’s a lot more kindness than most people can say they’ve shown.”

he watches the emotions flash across the man’s face like a play-by-play until his strong features finally settle on something not dissimilar to determination. “we’re going.”

“huh?” the sudden subject change throws him. “where?”

“the all blue,” is the impatient answer as the stranger crosses his arms. “didn’t you say you wanted to go?”

“yes, but—” sanji makes a series of exasperated noises as he tries to find his words. “i can’t just— go! i have responsibilities, i need to—”

“you need to be free,” the man grunts, and sanji stops short. “can’t keep a bird caged and expect it to be happy.”

the prince bites his lip, heart pounding. this is crazy. this is insane, it’s how kidnappings happen, he shouldn’t even he considering this. “…if, even if we were to go— how would we get there? how would we even find it?”

“we’ll figure it out?” the man pins him with a look that says duh, like it’s no big deal. “i know a witch who’s a navigator, she owes me a favour. and a guy who works in a shipyard. it’ll work.” he looks like he’s about to start tapping his foot, but then his expression softens. “one day,” he says, eyes skating across sanji’s face. “we go for one day, sunrise to sundown, and if you don’t like it i’ll bring you right back.”

sanji’s chest aches. his breath trembles against his teeth. “why?”

his stranger swallows, gaze tilting down as his fingers drift to the hilt of the white sword by his side, like it’s a comfort. “you aren’t scared of me.” his eye is a flash of silver as he looks up again, bottled starlight and iron. “maybe that’s more kindness than i’m usually shown, too.”

maybe sanji’s losing his mind. maybe he’d lost it a long time ago. because he finds himself nodding slowly and breathing, “okay.”

a sharp, sure nod. “we leave tomorrow. settle your affairs and meet me down by the beach at dawn.”

“alright.”

sanji watches the man turn and amble away, in no apparent, rush, before a thought strikes him. “wait!”

green hair shifts in the sunlight as he twists back around, one scarred palm by his ear. “hah?”

“what’s your name?” sanji yells across the clearing, and the smile that’s sent his way is blinding.

“meet me and i’ll tell you, curls!” the man yells back, and then he’s gone. just— disappears, like he’d been a figment of imagination.

an apple core tips against sanji’s ankle, pale and clean.

(sora takes one look at his face when he asks and lets him go.

“you’d always been restless,” she tells him gently, as she helps him pack his things into a burlap satchel and sets his spice tins carefully into their case. she says he’d been loud even as a baby, wailing right out of the womb with eyes the blue of cornflowers and summer skies and the water, riotous and gentle and vast like his heart.

she sends him off with a kiss to his forehead, hands cupping his face as she smiles against his skin, and this time sanji welcomes the burn in his eyes.

he finds zoro by the beach like something out of a fairytale, skin bronzed in the light of a new day, glowing with the orange dancing off the waves. he has a boat waiting, barely big enough for two, wrist draped over his sword hilts as he yawns and scratches at his head, and sanji grins so hard his face hurts.

his palms on the lip of sealed wood have his heart pounding hard enough to feel it against his ribs, his shoes sinking into the sand as they push the dinghy out to sea and jump on, and he shoves his hand in the water just because he can.

“zoro,” the man says abruptly, two extra shadows framing him in the sunrise like a mirage, and sanji’s lips curl up at the edge. “that’s my name.”

“okay, mossy,” he sing-songs, and bites down a laughing scream when zoro rocks the boat so hard he nearly falls out.

he does tell zoro his name, when he decides that he’ll stay. they’re still on their little boat; it’s sunset now, and the green-haired man is taking up all the space in his other form, stretched out with his hands folded behind his head. “i’m sanji, by the way,” he offers, offhand, and watches zoro crack an eye open to grunt in acknowledgment.

he pretends not to see the soft smile that the other man flips over to hide. zoro hardly ends up using it anyway, the brute.

sanji really doesn’t mind.)

#don’t know WHERE i was going with this #like feeling around a wall in a dark room with paint on my hand #call that ABSTRACT ART 😏👍🏼#one piece #zosan #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #sanji #one piece sanji #one piece zosan #one piece zoro #zoro #ino writes #this is an au where sanji meets zeff out there i guess… as of now the poor babygirl still thinks he’ll never get Fathered™#JUST YOU WAIT SANJI JUST YOU WAIT #mmkay goodnight yall #and happy 初二 to those who celebrate cny muakss

214 notes · View notes

blingblong55 · 10 months

Text

Until I found you-König

GN!Reader, angst, fluff

Oh, let me hold you I'll never let you go again like I did

Your relationship with König was more than amazing, he always looked forward to coming home to you. But as the missions started to pile up for him, the more he saw himself losing hope to come home safe or alive. He couldn't and wouldn't be the reason why you were sad if he were to die, so he thought that maybe if he broke up with you before one of the toughest missions he's been on, surely you'd be able to move on without him in the world.

The day that he broke up with you was nothing but painful, you were sad but also mad at him. His reasoning was not clear and all you could think about was that maybe there was someone else for him and he just didn't want you to know that. Were you not enough? Was there something wrong with the way you loved him? He definitely knew you loved him with every fibre of your being but you didn't think he was fully aware of how much love you have for him. There was a deeper reason for this, not just because he thought I'd be mean of him to leave you alone and in despair.

Two months ago he was closer to death than ever before. A bullet passed through his shoulder, it was by pure luck he never got hit. That was when reality set in for him. He can't just leave you like that. Stupid excuse for such a valid reason. And now, as he walks into the flat you two called home, your stuff is gone and the home feels colder. The colours and comfort the place brought him once, are now gone with you.

Reality set in. He let the one good thing he had in this miserable world go. If only he was as smart in love as he is on the field. What a shame. König now sits on the sofa that you two once cuddled in after he came home. What a fool was he to think he'd have you for years to come. He used to think he was at risk of getting hurt only to be the one who brought such pain to a wonderful and kind person. Couldn't he be more kind to your heart and feelings? Memories flush through, the night he got news his Oma died, you were there. Holding him close he silently cried for her. You were there the day his mum was in the hospital, calming him down, making tea and visiting his mum every week after the incident. You made sure to clean her face after every meal, made him feel comfort when he felt it was wrong to be weak and you were the one who was there the night he had the worst panic attack due to his PTSD.

Why is he such a fool?

He saw you at the park, reading a book under your favourite tree. He smiles, knowing that at least that part of you has never changed. If he is such a tough and ruthless soldier then why hasn't he gone to you and started to talk? Because he is a coward at love, not war. You laid back, jumper on your back to make the tree bark more comfortable to rest on. He used to be the one you rested on as you read. It was the one thing he loved to do in public. He was Shakespeare and you his Anne. The muse to his love and sonnets.

"Liebe?" he softly says as he finally has the courage to talk and approach you. "König." you sounded surprised. Oh, how he longed to hear your voice and the sweet sound you made when you said his name. Sweet angel, his sweet sweet angel.

Now, four years since he and you rekindled your love, you two now chase your dog around the park because the dog can't let go of the dog bone a little kid threw by accident. You are now his spouse, the one and only for a man like him. Never did he know he could feel so much for one person, yet he is there, loving, protecting and caring for you.

527 notes · View notes

tadpolesonalgae · 11 months

Text

High Lord!Eris x reader: Servitude[***]

A/N: I’m very split on this fic since I love monsterfucking but I crave dialogue

Summary: The night Beron dies and Eris inherits the Autumn Court throne, he goes a little mad from the sudden surge of power, and needs to work his frustrations out - kind of like Calanmai - and who better than you? You practically stumble straight into his lap

Warnings: reader having a CNC/rape kink?, monsterfucking, exhibitionism, dubcon in parts, it’s not breeding kink but there’s definitely something

You’ve been fantasising for too long, and your scent has shifted.

You sigh, heavily, feeling the familiar heat of arousal lick between your thighs. This was an utterly inopportune moment, couldn’t you have waited at least until you were in the privacy of your own home? Not out in the middle of the woods, and especially not on the court-wide day of mourning—tradition for when a monarch passed.

The news had spread like wildfire through summer-crisped leaves, ravishing the city until there wasn’t a single soul that didn’t know. Now all that was left to see, would be who the power would come to, who would inherit the throne out of Beron’s sons.

Heat is still thrumming beneath your skin, but it’s less prominent. You might get away with sneaking back into the city without someone catching your scent, and cornering you. Maybe hauling you into a side alley, and pushing your clothes away, shoving you against a wall - or maybe they’d bend you over - tearing your underwear from your wet heat—

Shit.

Maybe it would be a better idea to finish yourself off out here, in the woods, where someone’s less likely to find you. Especially at this hour. Your teeth find your lower lip, tugging it with indecision.

Eventually you begin quietly moving deeper into the forest, where the trees were thicker, shrubbery taller and more dense, vines stringing from the branches like limp chains. Everything seems so…erotic. From the mushrooms lining the forest floor, to every root large enough for someone to bend you over.

You swallow, undoing the ties of your cloak, too hot to keep your clothes on, folding it over your arm. If you’re going to do this, you’ll damn well enjoy yourself. You locate a nice little clearing, spotting a tree that looks comfortable enough to perch upon. It’s massive, and you wonder for a moment how many centuries it’s seen—if it’s older than your own people.

Pushing the thoughts aside, you begin stripping off your dress, peeling away layer after layer until you’re utterly bare to the night breeze. You imagine every soft gust of wind is a gentle caress from the elements, touching your skin greedily, wrapping you up. You shiver with delight, the heightened sensitivity of your body as you wrap your cloak over your shoulders—a barrier between your naked heat and the dirt coating the large root you’ve selected.

With a shaky breath, you lean back against the trunk, parting your legs a little, then—to hell with it. You straddle the root, the thick maroon fabric the only thing between your heat and the bark. Slowly, so slowly, you begin winding your hips, eyes rolling as your clit presses into the material.

This is so wrong, and it sends frenetic zaps of energy straight between your spread thighs. Fuck, it feels good.

Your lips part as your slick begins coating your cloak, enabling your hips to glide back and forth as you slowly hump the tree, as if you’re grinding against it’s leg. Like a bitch in heat. Your eyelids flutter, nipples peaking as you cup one of your breasts, fingertips dancing over the sensitive skin as you continue winding your hips. Faster, and faster.

Your body is beginning to move on its own, following an innate rhythm your arousal taps into. Back and forth, back and forth, clit gliding smoothly over your slick cloak, the texture of the bark delicious beneath you.

A breeze lifts, carrying your scent with it, cooling your skin as heat builds in your lower belly.

A twig snaps and you freeze, back curving as you peer through the dark clearing.

There’s nothing to be seen…but you can feel it.

The starving weight of hungry eyes.

You can feel them devouring your body, fucking you senseless in the perceiver’s mind.

Isn’t this just what you wanted? To be seen? For someone to watch as you indulge in pleasure? How many times had you fantasised about that delicious weight of a lustful gaze when you’d left your curtains a little too wide, or when you’d moaned after not fully closing the windows? Now someone is watching, and you dare stop the show?

That won’t do at all.

If they had come to kill you, you’d surely be dead. So they must be here for the performance. And who are you to withhold it?

————

The power thrummed beneath his skin, thundering through his body as it ravaged his mind, ripping sense from it’s firmly seated place.

One moment, he’d been calming himself with a midnight stroll through the apple orchards, too tense to sleep, and the next, this power had come crashing down onto him, riding his rationality until it was whipped into submission, yielding to that greater sense.

He’d know what it was the moment it happened, and while he was pleased that it had been passed to him, dread had coiled in his stomach at the pure strength that was now his to control. Eris knew the transformation would be coming any second, and he couldn’t afford to be anywhere near the Court Palace when it happened. Using the limited control he had on his magic, he winnowed deep into the forests surrounding the citadel.

And then he had yielded.

His nails became hooked, growing and sharpening into deadly blades. Canines protrudes from his upper lip, lethal enough to slice with the softest brush. His skin hardened until it was ensconced in scales, rippling with the growth of corded muscle.

Eris no longer moved on his two feet, but four, triple-pronged paws. A mighty tail snicker-snacked behind him as he silently slithered through the undergrowth. Hunting.

He needs to hunt, needs to chase something. Become the predator that has taken over him entirely. Satiate its needs before he can return to his Fae form.

He knows he could become larger, could grow big enough to trample the lush forest that has served his court for years, and that is now his to control, but he manages to keep the power contained. Despite how wildly the magic thrashes and writhes to be set lose.

Almost as if the Mother is urging him on, he catches a scent in the wind. A mouth-watering, dizzyingly appetising scent. So inherently feminine as it wafts to him on the breeze. A growl he doesn’t recognise drags from his throat as he begins tracking it, needing to sink his teeth into whatever it is.

Eris keeps close to the ground as he silently bounds through the dense shrubbery, mighty paws carrying him with lethal quiet. Closer and closer, until he can practically taste that sweet, sweet scent on his rough tongue.

There you are.

The beast inside him hushes, settling into a low crouch, ready to pounce at any second.

For a moment, he’s back in control, watching. And that’s all he does. Watches as you peer around the clearing, trying connect that other presence you feel to a pair of eyes, but you can’t find him. But you know he’s there.

He doesn’t question why you’re out here, or what the hell you’re doing stripped bare in the middle of the forest in the dead of night. All that matters is you’re there, ripe for the taking.

Your hips begin winding over your thick cloak, and he nearly growls with hunger. The sweet scent is coming from you, arousal making him drool as he contemplates how he wants to take you. He doesn’t feel like drawing it out. He wants it now.

And he can tell you’re already close.

————

Bushes rustle, but you continue moving, spurred on by the sounds.

Your eyes slide shut, revelling in the pleasure, the heat that’s coiling in your belly. A little longer and you’ll be there. You’ll come undone before that strange set of unknown eyes.

A growl pulls you from your fervour, and you freeze.

An awe-full, terrifyingly great creature prowls forward, long, hooked claws glinting in the moonlight. It’s eyes are slitted, reptilian features crowned by a halo of straight, pointed tusks. The eldritch animal stalks forward slowly, moving with languid grace toward you, and you can see the muscles rippling beneath the tough, scaled skin.

No. It’s not an animal. There’s nothing remotely normal about this creature.

Arousal slams into you.

One look into it’s slash of pupil and you can sense the beastly Fae power thrumming beneath its armoured surface. He’s been transformed.

The beast prowls closer, and you keep utterly still, nipples peaking in the cool night air. A low growl rumbles through the clearing, and you can swear you see its chest vibrate. There’s a sinister gleam in its eye that has something primal in you begging you to bow. To run, or scream.

He snarls, stopping just outside of your reach, leaving you within his.

Maybe he wants you to stop. Maybe he’s the guardian of this forest and is preparing to rip you apart for performing such a sacrilegious act.

Swallowing, trembling, you shift, moving one leg over the root, so you’re practically side-saddle. You aren’t foolish enough to turn your back on the magnificent beast.

“I’m sorry…” you stammer quietly, fear tracing up your spine. His nostrils flare, and he purrs. As if he enjoys your terror. “I didn’t mean any harm…” you beg, softly, nails digging into the material of your palm.

His slitted eyes take you in, peering at your elevated position on the root. His nostrils flare again, and the delicious scent of your fear and arousal twine together, and he needs.

Your breath catches as he noses roughly at your belly, shoving between your thighs, tongue pushing out. Your eyes roll as the Fae creature begins lapping at you, the rough, slick muscle rolling over your clit, and your hips buck. Keep still. The beast seems to command with his eyes, making certain he won’t have to hunt you down now that he’s found you.

A whimper spills from your lips with the forcefulness of his licking, and you nearly topple backward. His head dips, bringing the tusks closer to you, and you grip on desperately. The beast’s head tips back up, and you’re pulled forward, so you’re toppling forward onto the column of his snout.

The Fae bucks his head, hoisting you higher, your thighs spread over the lower bridge of his nose, breasts pressing to the space between his eyes as his tongue fucks into you. A startled moan bursts from your lips as your clit glides across the scales ensconcing his powerful form. Your back curves, allowing him deeper as the hot, rough muscle drives within your sex.

The pleasure crests over you, and you cry, delighting in the delicious sensations being gifted to you. Your hips wind, desperate to ride out the orgasm, and it’s as if his tongue spasms, sending those eye-rolling vibrations to your wet heat.

Panting fills the clearing, along with that deep, beastly purr. He seems satisfied with himself. Until he tilts his head downward, and you slide off his slicked scales onto the ground. You wince with the drop, landing on your ass, before you’re peering up at him.

He prowls closer, until he’s over you, and you’re having to crane your neck to see him. But your eyes catch between his hind paws, and your breath catches. You whimper at the sight of it: he’s hard, his cock widening a little beneath his tip, a pearly bead of come nestled in his slit.

He’s big. Far too big for you.

Fear coils within you as you shift onto your hands and knees, attempting to frantically crawl out from under him, but he pursues with a deep growl. It’s a warning you realise, through whatever unearthly magic he possesses that allows him to make such a drastic transformation.

It’s a warning you don’t heed, too occupied with attempting to escape.

One large paw crushes down into your shoulder, though the pressure lessens when you whine. Instead it shifts to the base of your neck, talons hooking smoothly over your shoulders as if they were fashioned around your bones. You whimper, wriggling desperately as his tail twines around your hips, keeping your ass in the air.

“Please…” you beg, using all your fae strength to push against the creature that will surely wreck you. “Let me go…”

His grip tightens, and it’s then you notice his paws have shifted. Instead of having them end in triple-pronged talons, it’s now five fingers. They’re still much too eldritch to be fully fae, but… You crane your neck to try and get a look at the monster, but it’s difficult. All you can make out is the corded muscle of his arm—not paw.

You whine when his tip presses against your entrance, and you can practically feel that pearly bead of come mix with your own release as he slicks himself up. His tail constricts, pulling your hips back to him, and he pushes in. Your mouth drops open in a silent moan as he fills you up. Big, but not unmanageable—definitely a stretch.

A hiss rips from between your teeth when he moves to draw back, and it stings. You need longer to adjust, you can’t go as you are. He’ll tear you to pieces.

Eris senses your hesitance, the too-tightness of your cunt. He growls impatiently. He’d already prepared you, now he needs you to come to that perfect state of ripeness. He can’t set himself lose until you’re there, ready for him.

The tip of his tail rolls over your clit—it’s the most he can manage in this new body of his, how little control he has over its fine details. His tongue lolls out, and he licks along your neck, purring at the flavour, tasting your arousal.

Heat is already blooming in your lower belly when he begins moving. And when he draws his hips back, to press back in, your back arches with pleasure. This time, when you wriggle against him, you need him deeper, need him to be filling you up, and spilling into you until he’s dripping down your stomach.

It’s like he can sense your desires, as if his senses are so powerful they reveal everything to him. His hips draw back, and he slams into you. If his tail hadn’t been holding you in place, you would have surely been knocked forward. You moan, a deep, needy sound that he replies to in his chest, the noise vibrating against your back.

He picks up the pace, already beginning to pound into you, and it’s as if he wants to you scream, like he needs to hear what he’s doing to you. His hips roll, and the swell of his cock rubs against that sensitive spot inside of you, and you can’t help it.

The short scream tears from your lips, making him snarl in delight, gripping you firmer as he continues assaulting your senses. Your back curves, and you begin to match his pace, pushing back against him.

That white-hot coil tightens in your belly, and your vision blurs.

Eris’ taloned hand leaves your nape, hooking beneath your shoulders as he lifts you upward, your back flush against his warm chest. A shiver runs over you at the mind-numbing contrast: the heat of his chest to the cool whips of midnight air along your front. The rough pads of his fingers dance over your chest, and the tears spill, drip-dropping straight to the earth beneath you.

He grazes your nipples and you think you might fracture beneath the pleasure he’s subjecting you to, how his cock keeps abusing that one spot over and over and over. His tail rubbing over your clit while his fingers warm your breasts.

There’s nothing you can do to prevent it as the pleasure against crests, more powerful than last time. Your whole body trembles as your muscles seize and spasm, cunt fluttering around him wildly as you lose yourself in the frenzied washes of euphoria.

Eris feels your delight, feminine satisfaction tinting your scent as you come, and he feels himself release.

You moan sharply, suddenly, feeling as his come shoots into you, cock spilling precious pleasure inside your wet heat. You can feel it, feel the light pressure in your lower abdomen as he fills you up, so thoroughly that he’s dripping down your stomach before he’s finished.

He gives you so much.

You’re panting, breathless, feeling like you’ll never need again if you have him. So deliciously male.

Above you, he sighs heavily. The strain has lessened, and he feels himself beginning to revert back into his old self. His arm remains hooked beneath your chest, but his tail releases you, shrinking away as scales melt into skin, tusks transforming to long, silky locks of hair that cascade over your shoulders, tickling you slightly.

You gasp, indulging in the soft press of his skin, hand gripping his wrist, wanting to keep touching him. His hips draw back, and you whine from how empty you feel, but you manage to shift onto your back, taking in the male who just ravished you.

He’s beautiful. Magnificent grace radiating from him, and you know you wouldn’t be able to escape him if you wanted to.

He’s tired, eyes half lidded from the effort of keeping the sudden surge of power contained, but he’s managed. And it’s his now.

Fire blazes in his gaze as he takes his female in—you. He can feel the warmth from your skin, hand cupping your jaw, talons shrinking to elegant nails. You tip your head, and he takes you, mouth slanting over your own as he carefully pries your lips apart.

You moan, arms snaking over his shoulders, legs wrapping around his hips as you kiss him fervently. Your eyes slide shut, allowing him inside, wet heat lapping against your tongue and you grip him tightly.

You won’t let him escape either.

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020

#Eris #eris smut #autumn court #High Lord #High Lord smut #Eris x reader smut #Eris vanserra

432 notes · View notes

semisolidmind · 9 months

Note

I had a train of thought about your Twice as Bad AU. Started with thinking “what if Peaches had a pet cat back at the village and it could see past the monkeys’ disguise?” Then I thought “wait, would it make more sense for her to have a farm animal as a pet? Like a little pig or goat?” And ended with “well I might not have had a pet if I were her but I’d definitely have a garden. And I would be VERY upset about getting stolen away from it. Even if it’s tiny, those are my plant babies!!!!” I guess all of this to say…what if Peaches had a pet? (As always, I love your stories and your art, Semi! Hope you are having a fantastic day! 🌼🌻🌷🌸☀️)

(pfft. 😆 they'd help her transfer her garden to the mountain if she missed it that much)

so, i think that in the beginning, if reader had a pet during the time that the monkey demons were visiting her as little normal monkeys, things probably wouldn't have turned out much differently. my first thought goes to the "sensing demons" thing. for easiness-sake, we'll say reader has a cat or a dog, since both of these pets have been known to be able to sense the paranormal.

when reader brings an injured, disguised macaque back to her home to patch him up, she has to shut the pet outside because of how crazy they're acting. they won't stop barking/meowing, their fur standing on end, and it's scaring reader's little guest. reader just figures the pet doesn't like a new animal in the house.

macaque knows that the pet can tell he's a demon, but he also knows he can just...make it disappear if it gets in his way, so he's not too concerned about it. when reader opens the door to let macaque go after bandaging him, he quickly gets into the trees. the pet hisses/growls at him from the ground, and he hisses right back. the six-eared demon still wants to see reader, but he'll need to distract the little pest if he wants some one-on-one attention from its mistress.

macaque, knowing that reader must love the stupid thing if she actively keeps it near, won't immediately kill it. so, he uses clones to keep the cat/dog busy in the forest during his visits. wukong, once he starts showing up, plans to just kill the stupid thing. ...what, reader has them now! what does she need this thing for? it's not like it's doing its job all that well anyways; he and mac keep coming back, don't they? overall, wukong doesn't care for the nuisance the pet is being; he's got beef with a cat/dog.

that brought up the idea of reader thinking that something might be wrong with her pet and asking around the village for something to calm them. a friendly old farmer listens to her troubles and warns, "If it only acts that way around those monkeys you're feeding, then perhaps it's trying to warn you, girl."

reader didn't know how right he would be.

#twice as bad au #bad end wukong #i dont wanna say they kill the pet #but reader probably doesnt get to keep it

217 notes · View notes

screamscenepodcast · 2 years

Text

Nesuferitul

So, we’ve gotten to the part in Dracula Daily where Bram Stoker starts throwing around the word nosferatu. Stoker got the word from Emily Gerard, who mentions it in her works on Transylvanian superstitions which Stoker used for research, where she makes it out to be the Romanian word for vampire. In this she is backed up by German writer Wilhelm Schmidt, who also treated it as the Romanian word for vampire. The word “vampire”, by the way, came to English from French, to French from German, and to German via Hungarian from the Slavic languages. Romanian is not a Slavic language, but a Romance language, as you might guess from the name. Thing is, there is no such word as “nosferatu” in Romanian. However, other German writers like Heinrich von Wlislocki treat “nosferatu” or “der Nosferat” as a Romanian word, so researchers who have gone down rabbit holes trying to derive it from the Greek for “diseased” or the Latin for “not breathing” or some Slavic basis are, quite frankly, barking up the wrong tree. Instead, it’s way more likely that “nosferatu” is a Germanicization of a Romanian word before Romanian spelling was standardized, which it wasn’t even in the late nineteenth century. The Romanian word “nesuferit” literally means “insufferable”. The prefix “ne” indicates the negative, the root “suferi” means “suffer.” However in practice nesuferit doesn’t mean “insufferable” as in “oh, that annoying man is insufferable”. Instead the meaning is much more in the sense of unbearable, offensive, horrible, diseased. It’s a word used to mean “unclean” in a taboo way. To talk about an “unclean spirit” means to talk about an incubus or succubus, something that draws your strength or poisons your soul through sex. Now, the nominative masculine definite form of a Romanian noun adds the suffix -ul. We see this with Vlad II Dracul. Dracul means “The Dragon” with the “the” also communicating male. The addition of “-ea” to “Dracul” as in Vlad III Draculea gets us “Son of the Dragon.” So, something is “nesuferit” if it is horrid or unclean or unbearable, thus “nesuferitul” is “The Horrid One”, etc. It’s male and it’s a thing and it’s awful. Nesuferitul is an incubus, a male demon that impregnates its victim. The child of a nesuferitul and its victim is born a moroi, a kind of living vampire born (un)dead. Meanwhile, a person who committed some great sin or buried in unhallowed ground or without rites would come back from the dead a strigoi, to feed on the living. Nesuferitul was transliterated into German as Nosferatu, where it was assumed to be the Romanian word for vampire, but is in fact an incubus. From there it found its way to Bram Stoker, who took it to mean undead. “The Undead” in Romanian would literally be “nemortul”, by the way. Moroi means something like “the nightmarish one”, while strigoi means something like “the screaming one”, and is cognate with terms derived from Latin “strix” or “striga”, which became the root for “witch” in many Romance languages. Interestingly, the Slavic root origin of vampire is also thought to come from a word originally indicating a witch. Anyways, there you are. “Nosferatu” is not a “real” word, at least, not a real Romanian word, and certainly not the Romanian word for a vampire. But don’t go too hard on Bram Stoker, he was only as good as his sources. This was a hundred years before online search engines, after all.

1K notes · View notes

linka-from-captain-planet · 2 months

Text

Rating BG3 Ladies Stroke Game

My brain won't let me write my fics so have this shit instead.

Ratings based on vibes and also facts opinions (controversial: not everyone can be a sex god)

all the main and supporting women + my background babes: Florrick, Talli, Alfira, Lakrissa, Araj, Nocturne, Skoona, Adrielle, Z'rell, (ETA:) Nine-Fingers, and special guest star Philomeen

*Anyone can be trans and straps are for everyone regardless, so take your pic on homegrown vs store-bought and/or magical strap*

*Also sex is like pizza, so average results are in fact still pretty good. Only 2, 1, and 0/10 are truly trash dick. So a 5 or 6 is still a compliment!*

Lae'zel: 10/10. She pulls hair, she spanks ass. She has the experience, the athleticism, the drive, the romantic heart. Also the greatest switch to ever live as a simultaneous 10/10 bottom.

Shadowheart: 5/10. Her experience is mostly hand/mouth activities due to lack of privacy/places to hide supplies or apparati in the cloister. She has better ways of making a lover fall apart, but her stroke game is perfectly serviceable.

Karlach: 6/10. LISTEN. I see the vision as a tongue god, but she needs some work to hone her stroke game (too eager = painful, and a possible classic Bigger Is Always Better fallacy waiting to happen), and like SH, she's also not very experienced. She can and will ascend the ranks, but give her a minute to get there!!

Minthara: 10/10. We all know this. She has like 200 years of experience as well as the drive, focus, precision, athleticism, and heart. She gets RESULTS, but also is surprisingly emotionally available, so she covers all the physical, emotional, and psychological bases.

Jaheira: 4/10. Not her favorite, or her forte. CAN she strap? Yes, and it's satisfying, but nothing to write home about. A queen of the accessibility strap (thigh/hand harness GOATed... iykyk) due to her knees/lumbar hurting.

Isobel: 5/10. Perfectly serviceable, likes to tease, knows the technique and executes it well. However, being 5'2" with lung issues holds her back when it comes to higher intensity activities. Also an accessibility harness queen.

Aylin: 12/10. Has been at it since before anyone else on this list was even born. Once she connects emotionally to her partner, there's no going back to anyone else. Perfect balance of brutality and gentleness; she knows how to use her weight, and her aftercare is literal god tier.

Mizora: 0/10. Would probably be pretty good if she deigned to do it, but let's be so for real, pup!

Orin: ??/10. Either a 0 or a 10, no inbetween. A freak bitch for the daring sort who are willing to gamble on what she meant when she said she wanted to 'get all up in your guts'.

Florrick: 3/10. A perfect example of how a dominant personality doesn't always translate to an ability to top. Will do it, but focuses too much on technique and zones out and starts thinking about work. Definitely would rather be on the bottom being ridden VS putting the stroke effort in herself.

Talli: 7/10. A humble, ego-free, service top for all who enjoy a gentler lover. Hesitant to get too rough or nasty with it; she's got that +3 STR and she knows how to use it, but she doesn't want to hurt or disrespect her sweetie!

Alfira: 1/10. Sweet Alfie has many good and sexy qualities but she is never taking anyone to pound town ever. She will do it, and it might be fun and playful, but never "good" by any objective measure. Absolute demon on a slower, more sensual grind, but anything approaching "stroke game"? You're barking up the wrong tree.

Lakrissa: 10/10. Technically an 8 but gets 2 bonus points for being a random girl off the streets and not an alien, centuries-old elf, or demigod. Great dick does walk among us mortals!! She's athletic, she's flirty, she's fun, she's a known giver. She will work extra shifts at her bitch ass job to buy you a house, she will smash you through the floor of said house, she will fix the floor. The total package!

Araj: 4/10. Wears some kind of weird strap regardless of her own equipment because she loves the flair and drama of it, but isn't particularly skilled. Gets distracted. Bad top etiquette. Never shuts up. Still, she gets the job done.

Nocturne: 6/10. Like Shadowheart, her experience is limited by the lack of opportunity in the cloister; but as quartermaster, she would have a greater ability to obtain and hide supplies/equipment, so potentially more experience. Also, maybe as an officer, she was involved in more prestigious orgies?

Skoona: 7/10. Would rather be on the bottom getting pampered, but is an above average top due to always being expected to top. Also a very tender lover (not necessarily "stroke game").

Adrielle: 8/10. She has no choice but to break backs because otherwise, the weight of expectations she places on her own shoulders would break hers. Meticulous. Thorough. Is she enjoying herself? She doesn't know the meaning of the word, but being of service makes her feel whole, and that's what matters, RIGHT?

Z'rell: You Can't Handle It/10. Don't worry about it, maggot. It's not for YOU.

Nine-Fingers: 10/10. Your fingers will quake such that you sign over the deed to your house in her name and you won't even be mad about it. She knows how to work People- what makes them tick. What makes them BOOM. An unforgettable experience.

Philomeen: 20/10. It's the toxicity, I fear. If she can and will blow you up, she can and will blow your back out. It's science. It doesn't matter if she's 1/3 your size, she is FUCKING. You WILL hate yourself after.

#nsft

51 notes · View notes

parachutingkitten · 7 months

Text

Dragons Rising Lloyd/Akita Reunion, cuz the show hasn't given it to me yet.

Lloyd and the kids are on their way to the First Realm, but run into an old familiar face along the way. Definitely a little flirty, but can still be read as platonic.

No one could quite pin down what was wrong with the trees around them. They were too straight. Too baren. Too… something. It was as if they had somehow noticed a change about this place which they had no familiarity with. Perhaps it was just the overcast day and the subtle winds which made the wood seem so ominous, or perhaps there was something more sinister going on. Either way, the feeling between the group was palpable- they were lost.

“You sure you know where we’re going?” Sora asked. “This doesn’t really seem like a trail anymore.”

“That’s because it’s a shortcut,” Lloyd assured her, holding up the map. “Or at least… I think it is.”

“I might have preferred the main path if it had less of a creepy forest vibe than this one,” Arin added, looking skeptically up at the trees.

Lloyd closed the map, confident in his direction. “Look, this will save us two whole hours, the only reason it’s typically avoided is because this forest is supposedly cursed.”

“You know, you had the option of not telling us that,” Arin groaned.

“Trust me, the last thing you want is your teacher keeping things from you,” Lloyd mused.

“Did you guys hear that?” Sora broke in.

“Hear what?” Arin asked.

Lloyd held his hand up, stopping the group. “No, I heard it too.”

The three stood in silence for a moment, listening for the sound to come again. It was hard to discern through the light winds humming through the branches, but it was there: the sound of living movement.

“You two stay close,” Lloyd instructed his students, continuing to scan the treeline. He squinted through the homogeneous rows of bark surrounding them, but still couldn’t see where the noise sourced from. Erring on the side of caution, his hand began to reach back for his sword. However, before he could even make contact with the metal, a flash of white burst towards him, knocking him to his back. The movement was accompanied by a deep growl, and a sharp scream from either side of him.

Lloyd felt strangely overpowered by the weight which fell on his chest. It came in two pointed placements and pressed in a way which seemed to go through him, taking with it most of his breath. The noise he heard was unequivocally animal, and the vigor which restrained him matched that assessment. As he squinted upwards at his attacker he was able to make out the beast's face. A wolf- but not just any wolf.

"Akita?" He used the last of his air to address the creature.

The growling stopped as the animal retreated, allowing Lloyd to sit up, and more importantly, breath.

The wolf now circled around him, bumping into his arms with a friendly familiarity.

"Hey, it's good to see you too," Lloyd chuckled.

"You know this dog?" Sora asked.

"I do!" Lloyd smiled. He looked into the animal's eyes fondly. "She was, um…"

There was a bright flash of light as the form before him began to shift. As the shock from the shine subsided, he made out the image of a woman reaching down to help him up. It was a familiar face, but a changed one. Her wild raven hair was much longer now, tied back into a tight ponytail which exploded behind her, and topped with her familiar animal adornment. Her figure was clothed largely in black, and fit to her body much more closely. On her were obviously several weapons, along with a number of other useful objects attached to her person directly. But her face seemed much the same, her smile just as shyly offered, and the marks which framed it right where he remembered them. "I'm an old friend," she finished.

Lloyd took her hand as a pair of awed marvelings came from the kids. Her strength easily tugged him upward, their eyes remaining locked as he made his ascent.

“I didn’t think you were- I mean-” Lloyd paused for a moment to avoid stumbling over himself any further. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

“I can’t say I thought the same.” Akita tightened her grip on his hand before finally letting it go.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lloyd chuckled.

“It means Lloyd Garmadon seems like the type of person to turn up in unexpected places.” Akita smiled. “As you have!” She gestured to the forest around them.

“This is the girl from the Never-Realm!” Arin burst out, finally drawing their attention away from each other.

Lloyd glanced back and forth between him and Akita. “Yes, she is. How did you-?”

“Does this mean she’s the one that-”

“We don’t have to elaborate on that description,” Lloyd stopped him, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. “Seems like you got it figured out.”

“I’m still lost,” Sora chimed in.

Lloyd let out a heavy sigh. “Sora, Arin, this is Akita, I met her on a mission a while back, she’s originally from the Never-Realm. Akita, this is Arin and Sora, they’re my… students.”

Akita was grinning wildly by this point. “Students, huh?” she turned her attention to the children in question. “What’s this idiot been teaching you?”

“He’s been training us to be ninja!” Arin jumped excitedly.

“He’s been training me to use my elemental power,” Sora added.

“I already taught myself the basics of spinjitzu,” Arin continued. “but it’s awesome having a teacher!”

“Self taught is the best way to learn,” Akita offered Arin a high five, which he eagerly reciprocated. “I like your ears,” Akita turned to Sora, pointing above her head. “You make them yourself?”

Sora reached up toward the accessory, pleasantly surprised. “Thank you, I… yeah.”

“What are you doing out here?” Lloyd asked, his attention still strongly attached to his rediscovered ally.

“I live here,” She shrugged. “I’m out collecting tree bark.” She tapped a small pouch that hung at her side. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you do with the tree bark?” Arin cut in.

Akita smiled, pulling out her dagger. “You peel it off, very carefully,” She placed her blade along the nearest tree, carefully shaving off a long strip of bark. “You take it home, clean it, dry it.” She tossed the piece to Arin, who caught it easily. “And it makes an excellent tea.”

Arin’s eyes had grown wide, Sora looking at it over his shoulder, her hands reaching for her pocket knife.

Having distracted the kids, Akita again turned to her new-found companion, quieting her voice.

“What are you doing here? No one ever comes through here.”

“We’re headed to the First Realm.” Lloyd answered, matching her tone. “We’ve got a whole dragon problem going on, and we think the realm of Oni and Dragon might have some answers.”

Akita’s face ruffled in confusion. “The First Realm?”

“Yeah,” Lloyd answered, a strain of uncertainty entering his tone.

Akita stared at him a moment in thought. “You’re almost certainly headed the wrong direction.”

“Really?” Lloyd sighed, reaching for his map.

“I told you we were lost!” Sora called over to them, now struggling with her knife against a nearby tree.

“We can’t be going the wrong direction. We’re right here,” Lloyd pointed on the map. “in the Unsleeping Woods-”

“No, right now we’re in the Forest of the Tamed.” Akita placed a finger a few inches away from Lloyd’s as his gaze froze on the spot.

“How could we have…”

“You probably mixed up the Forbidden Path with the Forsaken Path.” Akita took the map from his hands, tracing along the two trails. “The Forsaken Path takes you much farther North.”

“That… would do it.” Lloyd sighed.

“I’m sorry, we were on something called the Forsaken Path?” Arin butt in.

“Technically, I thought I was taking you on the Forbidden Path.” Lloyd corrected him.

“You do know that’s not better, right?” Arin groaned.

“Well, it’s far too late an hour for you to start that direction now.” Akita rolled up the map, handing it back to her companion. “But my camp is nearby, and I have plenty of extra space.”

Lloyd’s vision turned to his students, thinking for a moment.

“You are gonna let us hang out with the cool wolf-lady, right?” Sora asserted, bark strip in hand.

“Wait, does that mean this forest isn’t cursed?” Arin spoke up.

“Well, it's a different forest, but it could still be cursed.” Sora prodded him.

Lloyd turned back to Akita, his eyes narrow. “You sure we won’t be a bother to anyone?”

Akita smirked. “No one to be a bother to, except me. I’m a scout. I’m camped by myself in an abandoned fishing village. It’ll be nice to have the company,” she assured him.

Lloyd smiled, his mind still a mush at seeing the face in front of him. “You’re sure?”

Akita rolled her eyes, walking past him. “Come one everyone! Camp is just a few minutes west of here!”

…

Akita gingerly closed the door on the common building, a targeted grin on her lips. “So… Kids?”

“It’s a new development.” Lloyd shrugged, shrinking back a bit.

“No, I like it!” she quickly clarified. “The responsibility seems good for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lloyd chuckled, swinging off his backpack.

“It just means…” Akita thought for a moment. “Adulthood is a good look on you, that’s all.”

“Well, your new job looks good on you too,” Lloyd glanced up at her as he sat the pack on a bench near the door. “You seem like you make a great scout.”

“Well, I certainly did a good job of finding you,” she teased.

“It seems like a pretty important role. I bet Kataru is really proud!” Lloyd continued.

Akita was quiet for a moment, her demeanor falling. “Yes…”

Lloyd paused, studying her face. “Or not?” He offered.

Akita’s face hung before facing her companion. “Kataru didn’t make it through the merge.” The air in the room was suddenly filled with a thick stillness. “Most of my people didn’t.”

There was a beat of silence before Lloyd took her arm, guiding them both down to the bench. “Are you alright? I mean, I can’t imagine. Have you been by yourself all this time?”

“I’ve been fine,” Akita waved it off.

Lloyd’s face was stuck puzzled as he processed the new information. “I thought the Never-Realm had a lot of land carry over. The produce is all over the place.”

“Much of the realm did make it through.” Akita agreed. “But the majority of it is uninhabited wilderness… so that’s largely what survived.”

“Akita, I’m so sorry,” Lloyd placed a hand on her knee. “I had no idea.”

“My role as scout is the only reason I made it. If I had been home with my family, I would be gone with them.”

Lloyd felt the pain in her words, and could empathize all too easily. “You know, I lost my whole team in the merge. I thought I would never see them again. And I’ve found some of them since then, but I still remember how hard it was, thinking you’re absolutely alone like that. It can be so difficult just to find a reason to keep going.”

Akita looked back at her friend with pity. “Well, it’s nothing worth complaining about.” She pat his back as she stood, making her way further into the room.

“...what?” Lloyd turned over his shoulder to look back at her, thoroughly confused.

“Everyone lost things in the merge.” She shrugged. “We are not special. All that’s left to do is focus on what we do have.” Akita pulled out her dagger, moving to the water basin towards the back of the room to clean it. “I was lucky enough to make it through the merge, and with me came an abundance of territory I was familiar with and knew how to survive off of.” She glanced up from her work. “And now I’ve even found you. So that’s three things I have to my advantage.”

Lloyd sat on the bench, body twisted around, stunned for a moment. “I guess that’s one way of looking at things.”

“What’s the alternative?” Akita questioned.

“I don’t know. Feel your feelings a bit?” Lloyd offered. “Didn’t losing so much ever make you feel a little… I don’t know. Lost? Scared? Hopeless?”

There was a breath of silence as Akita pinpoint her words. “Loss is unavoidably painful, and I am not immune to pain.” Akita dried her dagger, it shining in the dim lantern light. “But giving up hope is the coward’s way out. It means you’ve decided you will no longer fight.” She stood up, starting back towards Lloyd. “And I am no coward.”

Lloyd sat with the statement, his eyes still caught on the shine of the dagger as she again approached the bench.

“You on the other hand,” she pointed the weapon at him with a smirk. “I’m not so sure.”

“Hey!” Lloyd laughed, standing to meet her height. “I’m plenty courageous!”

“Perhapps, but not that I’ve seen.” Akita shrugged, slipping the knife back into its scabbard.

“Not true.” Lloyd shook his head.

“What was the brave part? When I had to save you from wolves, or from the giant ice bird, or when you spilled out your feelings to an animal you thought couldn’t understand you,”

“Okay, okay,” Lloyd waved her off, still chuckling.

“-when your supposed friend very easily captured you, or when you ran away after a girl kissed you?”

“To be fair, she was a very intimidating girl,” Lloyd beamed.

Akita grinned, a bit of blush sneaking onto her cheeks. “Well, I don’t think she was trying to be… at the time anyway.”

Lloyd’s face tensed for a moment, his words hesitating. “I feel like I might need to apologize-”

“No, no!” Akita quickly cut him off. “You don’t need to-”

“Well, everything just ended so abruptly,” Lloyd shrugged. “I feel like maybe we didn’t get any proper closure because I had to leave-”

Akita scrambled for words. “I knew what I was doing, and that it would leave things…” a sigh of defeat left her lips. “It was just one of those silly teenage impulses,” she chuckled. Her frame had softened a drastic amount over the past few exchanges.

Lloyd sat with the statement for a moment, still unsure of how he felt about it. “Yeah… right,” he landed on matching her nervous chuckle, the room now palpably less fluid.

Akita leaned forward, attempting to ease the newfound tension. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s caused you much more distress than it ever has me.” A smile snuck onto her lips again. “Given your romantic history and all.”

Lloyd’s eyes playfully narrowed. “Low blow.”

“How has it been since then? Anyone else to add to the story?” Akita asked, starting towards one of the food storages.

Lloyd laughed to himself, loosely following her movements over to the large table at the center of the room. “Yeah actually, it’s… Harumi.”

Akita looked up from her search for a snack. “Again?”

“Yep,” Lloyd nodded, leaning back on the table.

“I thought she died.” Akita returned to her search, thoroughly confused.

“Well, she did. Or at least I think she did. But she got resurrected through like… dark magic I guess?”

Akita pulled out an orange from the pack. “So she came back. Was she different?” she asked, beginning to peel her snack. “Like she didn’t want to kill you anymore after the building collapse or..?”

Lloyd’s mouth hung agape, trying to avoid stating the inevitable. “No she… she still wanted to kill me.”

“And you still liked her?”

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds really bad!” Lloyd began to laugh.

“That is really bad!” Akita stressed, her too beginning to chuckle.

“Come on, I mean first crushes are always the hardest to shake, you know?”

“I do…” Akita’s smile landed quietly on her expression, her eyes darting back down to her orange as she finished peeling. “So, what happened with her?” She crossed the expanse between them to the table and leaned next to him.

“Well, she went to prison. She did a bunch of crazy stuff, so there was no way she was getting out of that.”

Akita offered him an orange wedge, which he promptly took. “Well, that will put a spike in things.”

He hummed in agreement as he finished chewing. “It’s probably for the better though. I do not think that relationship would have worked out.”

“No kidding,” Akita mused, popping another wedge into her own mouth.

“I mean she had a lot of trauma related to me, and I had a lot of trauma related to her. And now I don’t even know where she is after the merge.”

“Did the prison make it through?”

Lloyd nodded. “It did, but there was also a massive jailbreak during the chaos, so she could be anywhere. It’s possible she didn’t even make it through.”

Akita stared down at the orange cradled in her hands. “Do you… think about her much?”

Lloyd breathed a heavy sigh. “It’s been less as time goes on. But it’s hard not to wonder about her.” His voice had quieted dramatically. “I don’t even know if she ever had feelings for me. But I think there’s part of me that will always care about her, despite everything.” He rolled his eyes.

Akita held a glance over at him, her mind running with a thousand thoughts. “Maybe you just have a thing for women who try to kill you.”

His expression cracked again into laughter. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I don’t know, I don’t see any other reasonable explanation for your attachment to her.”

Lloyd smirked. “You know, you’re right. I can’t help it. I’m attracted to the danger.”

“No,” Akita shook her head. “I find it much more likely you enjoy feeling intimidated.”

“Is that why you attacked me out in the forest?” he teased. “So maybe your little crush would go somewhere?”

Akita smiled, her gaze returning forward. “You know, I did have a crush on you when you left.”

“Yeah?” Lloyd prompted her.

“I did.” Akita set the orange down next to her. “And I’ve spent most days after that wondering how on earth,” Lloyd began giggling. “that could ever have happened. I mean someone so annoying, immature, weak,”

“Okay-” Lloyd interjected.

“dorky, cocky, just generally unlikable as you,” Akita continued. “I wrote it off as a complete fluke fairly quickly.”

“Well, that’s great to know.” They both smiled at each other. Akita’s eyes broke first, a weakness entering her voice.

“But, I have to say, being here with you again,” She spoke, her voice almost a whisper. “...I get it.”

Her eyes remained firmly forward, refusing to perceive whatever reaction might come from her words.

Lloyd was pensive, a number of emotions beginning to manifest inside him. “You know, I meet a lot of people in a lot of different places doing my job,” he began. “And I always thought it was so unfair that the one person I wanted to see again the most, was the one person I couldn’t get to.”

Akita turned to glance at him again, his eyes ready to meet hers with an admiration that instantly encircled her gaze. A strain built between the two; she could almost swear it was physicalizing in the air around them.

Akita groaned, burying her head in her hands as her nerves caught up with her. “I did it last time- I’m not going to be the one to do it again.”

Lloyd giggled dizzily at her reaction. “You know, girls have only ever kissed me first. I don’t really have experience initiating things.”

Akita tilted her face back to him. “So, you’re saying you would want to kiss me right now?” she challenged.

Lloyd felt the blood rush further into his cheeks as he struggled for an answer. “I’m not saying that I… I mean you-”

Akita chuckled, straightening up to face him again, waiting for a response.

Lloyd sighed, his eyes refusing to leave hers as much as he wished he might be able to. “It’s just… silly teenage impulses.”

#and then the kids burst into the room #ideally this would be a multi part fic #but I don't have any other ideas fleshed out enough #i just know i live for akita teasing lloyd #and the kids teasing lloyd #and come to think of it also the ninja teasing lloyd #lloyd garmadon #lloyd ninjago #akita ninjago #lloykita #llokita #sora ninjago #arin ninjago #writing #one shot #dragons rising #ninjago

107 notes · View notes

elvisabutler · 1 year

Text

show 'em

fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: biker austin butler x female reader word count: 2,401 warnings: marking. a touch of blood kink. possessive behavior. unwanted advances from someone who isn't austin. a lot of talk about bruising. biting. p in v sex ( unprotected ). biker austin. austin has facial hair. public sex. sex on interesting surfaces. author’s note: welcome to day 2 of ally's wet hot smut summer, marking with biker austin butler. special thanks to @butlersxbirdy for brainstorming with me for it's been a long time since i consumed biker media as well as @blurredcolour and @eliseinmemphis for their read throughs to make sure i wasn't completely messing this up. to the anon who requested wil for this day, i am not forgetting you, i promise. like i said, i was gonna move you down a bit because i want to make sure you get a good wil fic. as much as i'm critical of my writing with austin and elvis, i am way worse with other media/things. consider this Sons of Anarchy inspired, austin a bit of a jax stand in with the reader as a tara one to be honest. i live for everyone's excitement about this little thing i'm doing over the summer and adore reading everyone's tags/comments/hearing the screams of delight. they truly are my lifeblood for writing a lot of the time.

Dating a biker is, in a word, complicated. Dating a biker when you are not the normal or stereotypical old lady is complicated and a pain that you wouldn't wish on your worst of enemies. As they say though, the heart wants what it wants and for both you and Austin that's no different. All it took was seeing him at a restaurant while you ate lunch with some colleagues and you were sold. Of course, with the way his club is set up, with how they do things that are most definitely not legal, you and him know better than to show off his lawyer of an old lady. It doesn't mean you don't show up at the club from time to time, but it does mean that beyond a very select few no one knows who you are to Austin. The shining light to a darkness that sometimes threatens to overwhelm him when he realizes he wants out of this life. You'll help him eventually even if he has to do his time for his crimes. The problem the two of you never thought about was that in not knowing who you were to Austin- you just looked like another run of the mill patch whore.

"I keep seeing you around here," a guy whose name you haven't bothered to learn murmurs from behind you. He isn't important, and you know this because important people know not to touch you in the club. Important people know that even if you weren't Austin's girl- you value your personal space to a degree that borders on antisocial.

Your eyes drift to the other side of the room where Austin is talking with some other members of the club and being sweet enough with the girl trying to hang on his arm. Another person might be worried, might see the woman as a threat but you know better, you know that there's a sting when you sit down from Austin's handprint on your ass and there's a hickey or five on his chest from your greedy lips and teeth. Still, you have to be pleasant, don't you? "You do. Thinking of joining and everyone's been really nice. I think I might fit right in."

The man hums and moves to step in front of you, blocking your view of Austin. His hand moves to cup your chin, tilting it to face him. "I'm sure they have been nice. You look nice too, you know. Could be a good girl on someone's arm."

Bile starts to rise in your throat as you grab at his wrist, attempting to pull his hand away from your chin. "I'm not- You're really barking up the wrong tree."

"Am I?" He laughs as if he's told the funniest joke in the room and not as if he's disagreeing with you over your desire to talk to him. To play along with his silly game. "You keep coming here and I don't see you leaving on anyone's arm. Kind of failing at your patch whore dreams when that happens."

You can't help the way a startled laugh leaves your body at the implication. He thinks you're a patch whore, a woman who wants to fuck her way through the club until someone decides that they want her as an old lady. You like to think you don't give off that vibe and yet apparently you do. "I have a job outside of here. One that doesn't really go well with being a patch whore."

"Really," he starts to move a little closer and you swear you hear a kerfuffle in the direction of Austin. Oh this was going to be bad. "I think you're just playing hard to get. What? I'm not good enough for the new little whore? Not high enough for your tastes? You want Butler? Or one of his little boys? Come on baby, that's not how this works— what the hell man?"

You look up to see Austin yanking away the would be suitor and pinning him to the wall beside you. "That's exactly how it works for her," he looks over at you and his face softens just a little. "He giving you trouble?"

You shrug, your thighs rubbing together through your jeans. "I had it handled."

Austin's eyes zero in on the way you're rubbing your thighs together and raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? Which is why if I waited for another minute I'd be seeing his hickeys on my old lady's neck."

The man realizes in that exact moment his mistake. You were already taken and not just by anyone, you were taken by one of the highest ranking members of the club. A man who could very easily kick him out right now if not just murder him for thinking his old lady was a patch whore. "Listen I didn't—"

"You did. You were gonna," Austin snarls, moving his hand to the man's neck. "You thought she was fair game. Thought because she isn't hanging onto me that she was your for the taking. You— No offense, but even if she wasn't my old lady, you're punching a bit above your weight class."

As if to belabor the point Austin sends a punch to the man's gut before letting him down off the wall. You can't help but lick your lips at the sight, moving close enough to Austin for him to nip at your neck, marveling in how he sees your skin darkening, a bruise starting to form. "What's a King gotta do to make it obvious she's taken?"

The question is rhetorical but the man and you answer nonetheless with the same answer. "Marks."

Austin's lips curl into a smile that reminds you of a shark— or at the very least some vicious predator and you're reminded of just how attractive and in love with him you are. "Marks," his lips move to your slightly exposed chest, biting harsh enough that you cry out, startled even as your arousal curls inside of you. "You want to look mauled by me, don't you? Debauched by the King? Was the hand print not enough? Was those few hickies not enough? Thought we were trying subtlety, babe."

Your breath quickens under his gaze, as he moves closer to you, causing you to back up against a pool table. The man has barely moved, too concerned the wrong move will get him killed until Austin looks back at him and growls. "Get everyone out of here. Or do something stupid to get their attention. You don't deserve to see this."

A shiver runs through your body at the implication that Austin plans on taking you against the pool table as you look at him. "Aust—"

His hands move to pull off your jacket, a leather number he had bought you after your second date. It's a bit oversized but you preferred it that way, told Austin it meant if your body changed for whatever reason it could still fit. You still remember the night after you told him that, the burn of his beard between your thighs a phantom whisper of a memory among the filth he had spewed from his mouth involving you and him.

"Austin," you utter his name as a warning that has him smirking down at you, doing away with the buttons of your shirt with such ease it's unfair. Your breasts are exposed to him, heaving in your bra and earning a growl as his hands grab at them, squeezing hard enough for you to know they'll be covered in fingertip sized bruises later on. "You going to at least kiss me?"

His face softens just for a moment at the request before he dives in, his teeth pulling at your lip and threatening to make you look every bit of that debauched woman when he was through with you. A moan is ripped from your chest as he takes a hand and busies himself with undoing the front clasp of your bra. You feel the second he manages to undo it, your breasts spilling from their confines and your nipples brushing against the fabric before pebbling at the cold air of the fan above you. Your nipples need attention, he thinks as he pulls away and sucks little marks all the way down your neck and clavicle till he reaches your breast and that little nipple. You get no warning before he bites at it, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to cause that angry rush of blood beneath the surface. You don't normally bruise easily but in this moment you swear your body has forgotten how to control itself. Austin's jacket is pulled off by you as he tries to help shuck off his shirt, noting how you're joining him in marking your territory, your nails dragging red painful lines across his chest and back.

He is yours as much as you are his and you want the world to know it after this. You've always wanted the world to know, despite the consequences you know are likely to follow the pair of you. He groans and whimpers a bit above you as a hand moves down to undo your jeans, mirroring one of your own. "Gonna maul me too, babe? Make everyone see I've got this old lady on my arm who's so powerful that everyone wants her?"

The whine that leaves your lips is embarrassingly loud and you are entirely aware that multiple people likely heard it but Austin's right, you want to maul him. You want both of you to be so covered in marks from each other that there's no question of who either one of you belong to.

"That's not an answer, babe. Come on, tell me what you want," Austin coos, as he allows himself the pleasure of pulling your pants and panties down just enough to expose your vagina to the cool air.

Your hands move to try and pull down his pants, frustration finally getting to you as you wrap your legs around his middle and force them down that way, his cock springing from his boxers as you tried to move against him. "I want everyone to see I'm your old lady, Austin. I don't want the women on you and I don't want to deal with any more guys like that who think I'm just a whore."

A snarl of aggravation rips through Austin at the word whore and his hands grip almost painfully at your hips. "If you're anyone's whore, it's mine. My pretty and smart little whore."

His fingers move down to between your legs, his fingers sliding easily through your folds and brushing against your clit when he pulls them out, he thinks he ought to taste you on his lips but settles for rubbing your arousal on his neck. A scent marker as primal and animalistic as it was. You swear you clench around nothing at the sight and grind against him once more, aching and begging for his cock. Smiling, he grips the base of his cock and guides it in, a low groan leaving his lips as he feels the tight grip of your vagina around him. This was his pussy to fuck. Your body was his to mark in whatever way he saw fit with your permission. The power he felt from it and the power you had over him because of it was unmatched.

The pool table's fabric felt strange against your back and you know you're likely to have some form of a burn to go with the burn of Austin's facial hair against your skin and the bruises he's sucking on your chest as he thrusts into you. Your nails dig harder into Austin's back, wanting to draw blood, to watch it drip from him as some form of sick claim. Marks only mean so much when they're not permanent but there's something about the idea of drawing blood from him that offers the chance to tie him fully to you. His thrusts are starting to speed up as you try to clench around him, using your internal muscles and a trick you know he enjoys.

"Babe. Not— I know we gotta be quick but kegels?" He whines pulling away from your skin and grabbing both sides of your face to pull you in for a harsh kiss, his beard scratching against your chin. "Wanted to take a little time."

"Tonight," you whisper, crying out as one of his hands somehow snuck down between your legs to pinch your clit. "Right now I just want to look like yours."

At your words Austin's eyes narrow and he thrusts even faster, keeping up with the way your hips chase his cock as he pulls back only to slam in over and over again. Things become a flurry of hands gripping and teeth and lips biting and sucking to the point where you're unsure of where he begins and you end. Your orgasm comes expectedly, your grip on his shoulders tightening as you almost fold in half from the pleasure your body feels, the aftershocks hitting you in the form of mild shakes even as you feel his come inside of you. Austin collapses on top of you, his entire front pressing against you as he catches his breath, seemingly trying to bite yet another mark on you.

Outside of the room you hear noises of people wanting to get back inside, whining about how it's hot outside and you roll your eyes. For a bunch of bikers, they could be so delicate about some things. "Austin, come on, we gotta get up."

The man in question whines against your skin, his lips curling into a pout you can feel before pulling away. "Don't wanna. I'm the King, they can wait."

You watch as Austin's head moves as your body jiggles when you laugh. A part of you wants to agree with him, but the part of you that's always mildly more mature knows better. "You are, but if you get up, you can show 'em off."

His eyes blink for a moment as he looks up at you through his eyelashes, his brain trying to piece together what you said before a hopeful grin flashes across his face. "Does that mean I can show you off too?"

"What's a king without his queen?"

taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @slowsweetlove, @kxnnxy, @meetmeatyourworst, @purejasmine, @stylespresleyhearted, @powerofelvis, @amydarcimarie, @thegettingbyp2, @austinswhitewolf, @richardslady121 and @mrs-butler if i have not included you know it's not meant to be a slight, it's literally i don't know if you want to be tagged as far as austin fics or elvis fics, drop me a comment or a message and i'll add away tbh.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x you #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #biker austin butler #ally's wet hot smut summer #ally writes

195 notes · View notes